Let the Wolves Come
by xxPeppermintxx109
Summary: No one expected her to be a player. No one expected her to do what she did. To be who she was. She has become a player in the Game of Thrones and in this game, you either win or you die. And this snake is ready to win. [NEXT UPDATE WILL BE AFTER SEASON 8 FINISHES]
1. Chapter 1 (Prologue-ish)

"Mmm…Oberyn, my love," a woman moaned slightly. A man, Oberyn, laughed at the woman's words.

His chuckle was light and full of mirth. "What, my beautiful wife?" he asked, his Dornish accent thick in the otherwise silent air. The tanned man rolled over on top of the smaller woman. His black hair seemed a bit wild, as if hands had been continuously run through it before.

"We…have…duties," the woman, his apparent wife, stated between deep breaths. She then gave a giggle as her husband started planting kisses underneath her jawline, an obviously ticklish spot.

Oberyn smiled against her pale skin, ghosting his lips over her bumpy flesh. "Duties do not concern me as of this moment," he said, trailing his lips up and along her jawline now. "What concerns me is pleasing my wife…"

Oberyn's hands moved to shift away the sheets that covered his wife, but before he could do so, an handmaiden rushed in, her face a wrecked mess. The prince of Dorne did not really care all that much that his wife's maid had caught the two of them in their rather intimate acts. His wife on the other hand, was still far more skittish with those situations.

"My lady," the girl started, breaths coming out almost too quickly, "a raven…your sister…"

Oberyn watched as his wife immediately stood (not caring she was unclothed), worry clear in her oak eyes. "What has happened, Riene?" she said, her voice tight and desperate. Oberyn knew how much his wife's little sister meant to her, and he cocked a dark eyebrow in subtly veiled suspicion.

"The dragon prince," the girl only seemed able to say. Oberyn watched as his wife's eyes turned understanding, a wave of sadness rolling gently into her brown oceans. He leaned up so he could help her sit upon their bed, his calloused hands tight on her biceps. He gave a nod to the handmaiden, the girl somehow understanding to leave them be for the moment.

"My love," Oberyn whispered, knowing his wife's thoughts. He knew what Rhaegar had done to his sister at the tourney of Harrenhal. He knew how he had openly disrespected Elia. However, it was not Oberyn's place to speak against the Targaryen prince. He was only a Martell, and he could only do so much. "You mustn't worry. Your sister must be fine. I'm sure she's-"

"He's no doubt taken her," his wife stated sadly. "Either that or she's fallen for him and has mindlessly agreed to run away with him. I never truly believed that she was swept away by Robert."

Oberyn sighed and rubbed his wife's arms lightly. "We must remain strong and here, in Dorne. One can't possibly understand what could befall them should they leave to King's Landing. You must insist that your family nor Robert does anything rash," he said, his self-preservation switch flipping. He wanted his beautiful wife to be safe firstly, and then he could worry about her family. However, with a Stark, it was always family first.

"Brandon and my father, I fear, will provoke something. Brandon has always felt strongly about protecting little Lyanna. However, because they're dealing with his wedding to Catelyn, I believe he should be somewhat rational," she said, turning her face towards Oberyn.

"But," she started once more, "I have no recollection of Brandon ever being rational in difficult situations that threatened our family."

Oberyn pulled his Stark wife against him, her body curling into his warmth and chest. He ran his hands through her tangled brunette curls, his fingertips lightly caressing her scalp. "Katerina, my love," he started, placing his chin upon her head, "you must stay strong. Everything will run its course. We mustn't interfere." He then looked across the room with those Martell eyes of his, focusing on the steady cradle. It held the product of their love. "We have a daughter to worry about my dear."

Katerina chuckled then, "Yes, her and three others."

"Amirina is but a babe still, my beautiful wife," Oberyn smirked, knowing their fourth child had been born only a few moons ago. She was already growing and mumbling sounds. However, their oldest, Elios, was recently seven name days old. He had been conceived the night of their marriage, a rarity among couplings. The other two had been born as twins: Eliana and Doran (the second after Oberyn's older brother). Those two were approaching their fifth name days in a couple of weeks.

He then smiled and joked, "The other three can fend for themselves."

Katerina laughed, putting on a fake serious chalance, "Ah yes. Elios has the skill of a Kingsguard, or better perhaps. And! Eliana and Doran can wield spear far superior to yourself, my darling husband."

Oberyn chuckled lightly before pulling his wife's head towards his own. He planted a firm kiss upon her soft and small lips, pushing passion from his soul unto her own. Her lips curled into a smile against his, pushing her love towards him. The two has been awkward at first, much due to their age gap when they married. Katerina had been ten and three when she married the ten and eight Dornish prince. It had been very awkward. They were preforming duty, that was it. It was normal, and Katerina was thankful her mother had convinced her father to marry her to Oberyn Martell, and not some vassal lord three times her age. That was the norm in fact. Now, however, they fit like gloves upon one another and their ages did not particularly matter.

And right now, their worries did not particularly matter. Everything would be fine at that moment. They would be fine.

For the Prince Oberyn Martell loved his Lady Katerina more than life itself.

He would do anything to keep her in his life.

* * *

Oberyn sat in his room, his fifth goblet of the best Dornish wine in hand. His eyes were concentrated on his bed. The bed he had shared with his wife. The memory played before him, taunting and teasing him. It was as if his mind kept asking, 'Was it enough? Couldn't you have done more?'

In truth, Oberyn Martell could not have done more. His wife. His first three children. All four. Dead. Dead as dirt. And it was all because Oberyn had been played. Played like a game of chess by an expert. He had trusted the wrong people. He had paid for that mistake with his family's lives. The only one that had not perished in the rebellion was his daughter. His frail and young daughter. The child that he and his beautiful wife had feared would succumb to illness early on in life. Their beautiful and innocent Amirina.

The child of Stark and Martell blood had just reached her fifth nameday a while ago. A few moons really. Oberyn couldn't really remember. He remembered acting calm and happy for his child. Then, when alone, he had torn his room apart. A teary and hurt mess. A silhouette of what he once used to be. He would never be angry nor hate his daughter. She was his last piece of Katerina. Instead, he would celebrate his broken heart by seeing his dead wife in his daughter everyday.

Amirina was a pale tan, however, she colored easily like Oberyn. Her hair was a dark oak coloring, curly like her mother's luscious locks. And her eyes. Oberyn saw his wife in her eyes. The little chocolate orbs that held a hint of blue and green around the entire iris. Some days her eyes would appear hazel, but mainly brown. Freckles dotted her cheeks but were barely noticeable. A child that many would consider a gift.

Elios had not been particularly gifted in looks, even as a four year old. Oberyn remembered that the boy's nose was too large for his skinny face and at points, he had noticed the left side of his son's face would sag a bit. The Martell had contributed it to his wife's early pregnancy, as she had only been ten and three name days when pregnant with him. They had to wait another year before trying for more, as Katerina's body took a while to recover from Elios.

Doran and Eliana had been cute babes. Dark hair and tanned skin with dark eyes. The two of them looked so much like Oberyn himself. He supposed it was only fair though. The ones he lost would look so much like him and the one that lived would be the one who could pass for his wife's twin when she grew older.

Oberyn chuckled a bit sarcastically at that thought and downed his goblet. He slammed it down on his desk, standing as he did so. The gold clobbered upon the wooden piece of furniture. He raised a hand to his face and stroked down his cheeks a few times. He wasn't feeling the effects yet. He had nearly drank himself to death a few times following Katerina's death, but now, he could hold his wine quite well. Too well.

Before Oberyn could do much, a small child burst into his room, a woman following close behind.

"Papa! Papa!" the child exclaimed, her dark curls bouncing behind her.

Oberyn smiled mournfully as he took in his daughter's happy face. Her cheeks were still fat from her babe stage. They pulled up to her hazel-toned eyes (which meant the weather was heating up) and crinkles like cat whiskers formed next to those oceans.

The Dornish prince held out his arms and grasped onto his daughter, lifting her into the air. She gave a squeal of excitement, receiving a real smile from him.

Turning away from his daughter, his dark eyes caught sight of his frazzled paramour. Ah, his darling Ellaria. She would never fill the hole left by his wife, but she would suffice. She kept his mind off of things.

"She is quite the handful, my love," the Sand spoke, her voice slightly betraying her emotions. Ellaria was usually not the jealous type, Oberyn had noted in the past year or so. She would gladly share their bed with more than just himself. However, when it came to Amirina, she was not so keen as to sharing. Ellaria wanted her daughters put first. Not Amirina.

Oberyn simply smiled and looked back at his daughter, the girl ecstatic to be in her father's arms. "She's very much like her mother and I," he said, ensuring that Ellaria knew her place. His paramour often neglected the fact that Amirina was not her's to raise. She was only Oberyn's and Doran's responsibility.

"Yes, well, she needs to be taught some form of discipline, Oberyn," his paramour stated, a glint in her dark eyes. He knew how the woman held their bastard daughter above his legitimate heir. Ellaria wanted their daughter, Elia, to be his focus. And while Oberyn loved Elia dearly, she would never be his Amirina and guilt riddled his heart because of that thought.

"No," Oberyn stated, bringing his daughter in front of him, bouncing her a little bit into the air. She gave a shout of childish laughter, her curls bouncing lightly. He smiled at her innocence and spoke without thought, "She is far too much like her mother and I. She's untamable."

Ellaria rolled her eyes and gave a scoff. Oberyn paid her no mind though. He set his daughter down and watched as she held his ring finger. His eyes caught sight of the onyx stone band that Katerina had made for him for their wedding. He looked up at his paramour and used his right hand to stroke her cheek. He leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead and smiled lightly.

"I promised her the day, my dear. You have me when the moon is high in the sky," he whispered to her, a smirk curling upon his lips. Oberyn heard the tanned woman give a sigh. His dark orbs caught sight of a somewhat defeated smile on his lover's red lips.

Ellaria nodded and pulled away, leaving his room in almost a hurry.

Oberyn sighed and looked down at his daughter, the child giving him a confused look. "What is it, my flower?" he asked, kneeling down so that he could be closer to his child.

Amirina cocked her head to the side for a second before looking at her father. "Why do you treat her like mama? She is not mama. Papa, you told me mama was with the gods."

"She is not treated as I treated your mother, my sweet," he sighed, rubbing the top of her dark curls. He then gave a small smile and patted the top of her curls, standing. "You'll learn when you're much older."

The girl seemed satisfied with that response and gave a bright smile. "Alright papa!" she exclaimed, happy. She then grabbed his hand as much as she could and started to lead him out of his room. "Let's play with the horses, papa!"

Oberyn gave a chuckle and let his young daughter lead the way.

* * *

"Again."

The sound of dirt shifting and heavy breathing filled the open area. Waves crashed against rocks as two people sparred. One was a man of lean physique and dark features. The other, a girl, probably barely past her ten and two name day. Her hair was pulled back from her face, her long dark tresses roped into a long tail at the top of her scalp. The man carried a long spear, the deadly ends taken off of it. The girl carried the same weapon choice, however, her's was much smaller and lighter.

"But papa…"

"Again," her father cut her off. His voice was stern and definite. There was no questioning him at the moment.

The girl gave a huff of exasperation and exhaustion. She picked her spear up and held it tightly, her knuckles turning white against her tanned skin. Her left hand curled and clenched at the top of the staff. A look of determination in her hazel eyes signaled her inability to give up quite yet. She couldn't. She wouldn't. Not when Oberyn Martell was her father.

Amirina Martell gave a cry and lunged, her fatigue showing in her sloppy start. She jabbed her spear left, trying to catch her father off guard. But he was the Red Viper. He was far too experienced to be thrown off by the likes of his young daughter. Oberyn blocked her jab easily, absorbing the brunt of the impact close to his chest so he could counter and hit her low.

Without much thought, the young girl stepped back, barely avoiding the strike towards her knees. Deciding she needed to switch tactics, Amirina placed her right hand atop the spear, shifting dominance and forcing her father to stay on his toes. If there was one thing the small Martell had learned, it was that she could use both hands interchangeably in fights. Normally, her right hand was dominant, but a gift had been bestowed upon her to fight with both.

Amirina ducked low, feinting a leg sweep with her spear, wishing to catch her experienced mentor off guard. Once again, the man was not fooled.

He had taught her the trick.

Oberyn stepped back and lowered just as his daughter stood to strike. He used her spear to knock her legs from under her, a painful 'oomf' resonating throughout the area. A cloud of dust flew into the air when Amirina's back hit the ground, displacing dirt from the ground and into the warm air.

The waves of the Summer Sea crashed lightly now, as if sensing the sparring to have finished. Gulls cried up above. The sand below the overhang sat soundly and without a disturbance in the world. Everything seemed perfect in Sunspear. Everything seemed…calm. Ten and one years since the end of Robert's Rebellion. That was the time in which little Amirina Martell grew. Yes, she was still a child. But she was aging. Growing up.

And as she laid in the red dust beneath the summer sun, the Martell girl closed her eyes and breathed in the salty air. Dorne and Sunspear were her home. Nothing would change that. Nothing would. But somewhere, deep within her, a spot never before seen or traveled to by her, something was stirring. It was as if that something knew that peace could only last for so long.

So, instead of throwing a tantrum for her father sweeping her onto her back and in the dirt, Amirina Martell smiled lightly and drank in the sun's rays.

All Oberyn could do was watch. Watch the girl, of who he knew to be his daughter, bathe in the sun like her mother did every single day until the days leading up to her death. If Katerina had loved the warmth as much as she had, Amirina surely would too. And that she did. Amirina loved the sun and never wanted to leave its sight.

* * *

Amirina huffed in annoyance as she crossed her arms. They had been traveling for months and the girl was tired of it. They had had to sail from Sunspear all the way up to White Harbor. Then they had to ride from White Harbor to Winterfell. A couple of months on the sea during a good season. Thankfully, it had been a good season…unlike the last time she and her father had sailed to the port city. That had been five years ago, when they made their trip to Winterfell to see the birth of Amirina's cousin, Brandon or "Bran" as he was apparently called. She had been eight name days aged, going onto her ninth. Now, she was ten and three years old, going on ten and four.

She didn't really care if another cousin of her's had been born a month or so ago. She wanted to be back in Dorne. She wanted to be back in Sunspear. Her bed was waiting for her tired and aching body from sparring. The sun was waiting to envelope her with its inviting warmth. The sand was waiting to kick up into her eyes with a vengeance. And the sea. Oh how Amirina Martell missed the waves crashing against the rock walls at night.

"Fix your countenance, Rina," her father scolded lightly. He looked out of place in the grey background of the North. His dark eyes then rolled at the sight of her not holding the reins of her mare. "And hold those reins, girl."

Amirina rolled her oak brown eyes and grasped the boiled-leather reins. "I can't believe we're seriously visiting them again, papa," her Dornish accent was thick, matching her father's in consistency and smoothness.

"Your cousin was born shy a moon ago, you will visit them as you have for each birth of that family. They are your kin and blood. Your mother would have made you commit to nothing less."

Amirina sighed and nodded her head. She knew not to argue with her father too much. He was Dornish. Those men did not give up on arguments. However, Dornish women were the exact same. But Amirina knew better and simply kept her mouth shut.

Especially since they were approaching Winterfell's front gates.

The Martell girl watched as people seemed to appear in front of her eyes. They had entered in the east gate, which connected to the kingsroad. They had traveled down that wretched way for a month and it was finally at its end for them. To their front was what looked to be a covered walkway. To their northeast was the armory and to the northwest was the great keep, if Amirina remembered from the last time she had been here.

Standing in front of all of it, however, stood the Stark family. Her cousins and aunt and uncle. Servants, guards, and anyone of importance stood around the area. The girl had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the formal sight. Apparently her father being here meant that her extended family had to appear proper.

But that annoyance disappeared quickly when she locked eyes with her Uncle Ned.

"Uncle Ned!" Amirina cried out in happiness as she jumped from her mare's saddle. She ran to the Warden of the North and wrapped her arms around him, sucking up the warmth his furs and leather offered.

Eddard Stark chuckled and hugged his niece. Her height had increased in the past five years, but she obviously was taking after her mother in that department. Oberyn was around six feet tall, an average height for his Dornish heritage. However, Katerina had only reached a little over five feet and half of that. Amirina seemed that she was going to be a few inches short of her mother, as the top of her head came up to Ned's shoulders. She used to only come up to the upper half of his chest.

"Hello Amirina," the Stark lord said happily. In all reality, Ned was ecstatic to see his niece, his only extended family. The best part was that she looked so much like Katerina, his late older sister. However, it could end up being the girl's downfall as well.

Katerina Stark had been beautiful. Many thought her to be lesser in looks compared to Lyanna, however. Eddard thought his two sisters, one older and one younger, were beautiful in their own ways. Lyanna was beautiful in many ways: she had a fierce nature unrivaled by any, soft features that could break any man's heart, eyes of the bluest winter, hair like the darkest night, and red lips that so many wished to touch. Katerina had not been fierce, nor had she been strong. Her beauty was gentle and often went unnoticed by many. She had freckles that scattered her face. Eyes that were like that of a chocolate wood. Hair in wild and often frizzy curls. And small lips that often gave way to a dazzling smile as white as snow. Lyanna was too beautiful and Katerina was too sweet. It was what led to his sisters' deaths.

"You've grown, my dear," Ned said affectionately, pulling her away by the shoulders and scanning her growth. Her dark hair was pulled to the nape of her neck and roped into a braid that fell to her hips. Eyes that rivaled her mother's own stared at him with adoration and respect. Cheekbones that seemed much like her father's own. Skin that was lightening from her time out of the sun and in the grey coverage of the North. Freckles that dotted her flesh like wildflowers in grassy plains. And eyebrows that arched softly but held enough darkness to be prominent against her skin.

"And I've managed to grow stronger, uncle," she smiled, pulling her arms up to flex their muscles.

Ned laughed and clapped Amirina on the shoulders. "Somehow your mother's nature did not reach you," he chuckled, receiving a laugh from his niece.

"Not completely true, my dear uncle. I am still a lady!"

"A lady who is just like her father," the voice of her aunt called out to her, receiving a smile from both Martells.

"Oh, come now Aunt Cat, ya know I'm just like my mother," Amirina teased, walking over and hugging her aunt tightly. The contrast between Eddard and Catelyn was stark (no pun intended). The Stark man had chin-length brown hair and a closely shaven beard to match with oak eyes. The Tully woman had red hair like berries and eyes like that of a brooke with cheeks that could cut. Amirina loved them dearly, despite the awful travel seeing them entailed.

Now the children…

To say the least…Amirina did not get along with her cousin Robb. She was only a year and a half older than him and he pestered her the last time she had been visiting like a lost pup. She found him annoying at best and frustrating at worst. She didn't detest him, no. He was her blood, but that didn't mean she couldn't be annoyed with him. The ten and two auburn curly-haired boy with brooke blue eyes stared at her as if seeing something strange for the first time, and she huffed at it. He was a strange boy.

Next was Jon Snow. Amirina rather liked her uncle's bastard, finding the shy and somewhat meek boy interesting and sweet. He never bothered her (as Aunt Cat wouldn't allow that). He kept to himself and only spoke when spoken to. His dark curls matched Amirina's own and his grey eyes that could almost be black at points always looked at her with kindness. Of course, they had only truly met once. The first time, they were far too young to remember.

Then there was Sansa. The child was an exact copy of her mother; she had the same red tresses and sharp blue eyes. She was approaching her ninth nameday soon and Amirina hoped to still be here to see it. Sansa had only been four when the Martell last saw her cousin and the child had taken a liking to her. Despite her annoyance to Rina, the Stark girl grew on her and she only hoped that was still the case.

Then there was little Arya. Arya had passed her sixth nameday by now, Amirina believed. The girl was rambunctious and loud for a child, much more than Sansa ever was. All Arya could do as a one year old was scream and cry at whatever time she wanted. It had not been fun for anyone. That spirit was still probably in her and wouldn't leave soon. The girl looked just like her father now; she had shorter brown hair (in comparison to her sister) and was oak eyed.

Lastly, for the kids she knew, was Bran. He was starting to look like Ned as well. The last time she had seen the Stark boy was when he was but a babe. As a baby, Bran had tufts of brown hair upon his pale head and big brown eyes that Amirina had been creeped out by slightly. Of course, she had been almost nine so she was creeped out by everything that looked at her weird. Now, he had the same features but with eyes that only showed confusion.

Amirina's eyes searched for the newest addition to her extended family but could not find him. "Where's the babe?"

Cat smiled at her niece and nodded back towards the keep, "He had to be put down for a nap; he was far too fussy to stay up to meet you."

The Martell gave a huff, "I come all this way and my cousin can not even have the decency to not fuss and stay happy, as babes should!"

Oberyn rolled his eyes at his daughter's antics, while Ned and Catelyn chuckled lightly.

"I suppose I'll settle for greeting the rest of you instead," she said, giving a sigh of exasperation before turning to her cousins who stood to her uncle's right and her left. They stood in order of their age and Amirina realized Bran stood to her right, next to Catelyn. She opened her arms and rolled her eyes, "Come hug your cousin."

It was like that command took ahold of each child's mind and set them loose upon her. Robb and Sansa reached her first, wrapping their arms around her. Robb was as tall as her, his arms snaking around her neck. Sansa was a bit shorter, probably coming up to her chin. Her arms wound around her chest. Then came Arya and finally Bran. Arya wrapped around her hips and Bran around her legs. She chuckled at her cousins and slightly bent over to encircle them all in a hug as best she could.

"I am reluctant to say that I somehow missed all of you Starks," she joked, kissing each of her cousins on the forehead. Amirina detached herself from the kids and kneeled upon the soft dirt. She wore brown leather trousers and a yellow tunic that split into three columns: one to her front and two to the back sides. A Martell necklace hung around her neck and a Stark brooch was pinned to her left breast. She looked severely out of place in the North.

Bran used the opportunity to jump onto his cousin and wrap her arms around her neck. Amirina was slightly surprised but guessed that his mother or father had placed amazing thoughts about her in his little mind. "Hello Bran," she laughed, holding the Stark child to her chest, "how have you been, dear cousin?"

Bran smiled at her and showed off the teeth of his babe stage in life. "Good! Mama told me you're from the farthest South! Is that true, Rina?"

Amirina smiled and nodded her head, "Your mama speaks true, little pup. I am from Dorne. My mama, however, was from right here. She was your aunt."

Bran gave a childish gasp and smiled even wider. "I wanna see auntie!" the child innocently exclaimed. Amirina gave a small smile and shook her head.

"Auntie is sleeping in Dorne, Bran, she did not make the journey," she said, trying to be as happy as possible.

In all reality, Amirina Martell still did not know what had happened to her mother. In truth, she didn't want to know what had happened. Her father's eyes had shown too much pain whenever she brought up her Stark mother. She only knew that her mother and three siblings had all died during the rebellion. It had made Amirina much more mature for her age and often a little bit more understanding.

"Oh, okay! I will see her soon though! I will come to Dorne to see her!" Bran stated, as if making a promise.

"Of course, little one. You are always welcome to Dorne," she giggled lightly, knowing full well that his parents would not allow such a thing.

Eddard and Catelyn Stark did not like Oberyn Martell. Ned had been furious when he had found out his sister was to marry the infamous Red Viper, who had three bastard daughters before the marriage. Amirina was not blind to the mutual dislike the three of them threw to one another. However, they kept up appearance in front of the children. But the young girl was a child no more and she saw the looks. It was why her father stood back and did not approach the family.

Amirina smiled and set her cousin down, standing up. Her eyes then caught sight of Ned's ward, Theon Greyjoy. The boy had been taken in by Ned after his father's rebellion right before Arya had been born. The kraken had not spoken to her the last time she had been here but it seemed as though he was comfortable with his place in the family. He stared right back at her with a strange gleam in his storm cloud grey eyes. Amirina shivered lightly and searched for the bastard.

She found him behind his father, standing meekly and quietly. His head was turned down and his dark grey eyes were turned down to the ground. Amirina wanted her cousin to look up and meet her eyes but he did not. And before he could, she felt herself being dragged away by Robb and Sansa. But more than anything, she wanted to give her bastard cousin the hug he so desperately needed and wanted.

For Amirina Martell did not care if you were a bastard or a cripple. Kin was kin and everyone deserved love.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** I hope you all enjoyed this! It's a prologue/chapter 1. I have been wanting to write this for a while and was going to originally write a prequel for Katerina and Oberyn but I have put that to the side for now. I will perhaps start it when this is further along. Not sure yet. I hope I did well with this and I hope you can catch some things that I subtly set in there. Thank you so much for reading and I'd love any form of constructive criticism or praise or thoughts on it. Love you all and thank you!_

 _Update: Fixed Elio's age_

 _~ P_


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: Some adult language towards the end, but if you watch or read the series, I shouldn't really be warning you.**

 _Disclaimer: I do not own GOT nor A Song of Ice and Fire. I only have rights to Amirina, obviously_

* * *

It had been three years since Amirina's last trip to Winterfell. Now, she was ten and six, going on ten and seven in a couple of months. Quite a bit had changed since then. Her dark curls reached the bottom of her hips and was usually pulled back into a rope braid that sat at the nape of her neck. Her brown eyes still changed often; either being hazel or chocolate brown depending on the weather. Colder weather meant darker eyes, and warmer meant lighter eyes. Her skin was still tanned from living in Sunspear and was at a permanent shade of deep tan. She would grow darker if she spent days sparring with her father (sometimes becoming as dark as her father). When she traveled to see her extended family, she could lighten to a pale tan. Her freckles came out when she spent time in the sun and faded to light dots across her cheeks and nose when she was under the grey coverage of the North. Her nose was straight and a bit thin, but it seemed fairly normal (she took her mother's nose). Her cheekbones were still up and cut like her mother's. A sharper arch had developed in her eyebrows and they had filled out, much like her body.

Most Dornish women were lean and thinner than Northern women, who took on thicker bodies and filled out figures. Katerina Martell had been one of those Northern women. And Amirina took after both of her parents. She did not have a thin nor a thick body. Her breasts had grown but not like a whore's. Her waist did not exactly have curves to it but was thin and toned with muscle. And her hips slightly moved out, giving her a slight curved figure. Her thighs were large from working them beyond exhaustion with sparring, and her calves were formed with muscle. Overall, she didn't have the lean body of say Ellaria Sand nor the curvy figure of Katerina Martell, but she did have her own form that some men could find attractive.

Overall? Amirina Martell was a woman now…a pretty one at that.

"Rina?" a child's voice questioned, as if worried that they were intruding upon her privacy.

Amirina looked up and noticed that her cousin, Bran, stood in her doorway. She smiled and motioned for the boy to enter, looking away from her desk. Bran walked across the warm room and to his older cousin. She motioned for him to sit on one of her legs so she could talk with the boy and continue on with her letter.

"What is it, young pup?" she asked, allowing for Bran to situate himself upon her legs. Her eyes then pulled back to the letter, her hand reaching for the quill she had been using for quite some time now.

Her oak eyes caught sight of Bran seemingly fidgeting. She smiled lightly and decided to give the boy time to speak. However, it seemed as though the time she thought necessary was not actually existent at all. He immediately questioned her, albeit timidly.

"Why are you leaving again?" he asked, a sad and confused look in his puppy eyes.

Amirina sighed and put down her quill, deciding to write her letter to her uncle, Doran Martell, later. She pushed the brown strands of hair away from his face, and smiled. She really would miss Bran. She didn't have a baby brother and Rina had to admit that she was rather fond of the idea of staying for a bit longer. However, she only came to visit, not to stay. That's how it was every time. Sometimes she would stay a couple of fortnights, sometimes only a week. But they were usually long visits due to how long the trips were. Her father enjoyed them, seeing as how he and Ellaria often fought because of her and her half sisters.

"I don't live here Bran," she chuckled, leaning back slightly in her chair. "I live in Dorne. Everything I know is there."

Now that wasn't a complete truth, and Amirina knew that. She only had her father, uncle, a few cousins, and her home there (she had already thought of her bastard sisters and Ellaria). That wasn't everything she knew. In fact, almost everything she knew was here in Winterfell. Her horse, her aunt and uncle, her cousins, a warm hearth, a few friends she had made, and lots of free range to do as she pleased. Her father could not control her as much as he wished he could while in Winterfell. Despite being a free-loving kind of man, he was sometimes strict with her. She hated it. But here? He couldn't say much lest he wanted to upset Ned and Cat.

"Plus," she added, "my father wants me to go back home with him."

"But mama and papa want you to stay!" he exclaimed, receiving a raised eyebrow from Amirina.

"What do you mean, young pup?"

Bran then looked guilty immediately, as if he had shared a secret that was not his to share.

She smiled and made sure he locked eyes with her, manipulating him in the slightest to get what she wanted. "Come now Bran, tell me. I might consider it a reason to stay."

"Well…" he started, wringing his hands slightly, "mama thinks you'd do well here. She likes that you're like a sister to all of us. She thinks of you as a daughter, is what I heard. Plus she said it'd be good for you to get outta Dorne, too many bad things happen there."

Amirina felt a smile crawl onto her lips then, moved and touched by what the Stark boy had heard his mother say about her. Cat had grown a bit harder to please the past few years. And to know Rina made her feel as such? Why, it was the greatest compliment the Martell has ever taken. However, the last part made her want frown a little bit. She knew it was directed towards the bastardy and open mindedness of the Dornish culture.

"And your papa? What did Ned say?"

Bran smiled then, "He said it'd be good for you! And he said you were like the daughter he wanted, a mix between Arya and Sansa! He said he wanted to keep you in Winterfell for a little bit, just to make sure you were safe."

Amirina smiled and gave a pat to Bran's head, proceeding to ruffle his hair affectionately. He gave a boyish giggle and pushed her hand away.

"Do you want to go annoy your brothers?" she asked, a sly grin on her lips and a want to make the young boy laugh. Bran's oak eyes widened before nodding vigorously.

Amirina chuckled and motioned for the boy to get up. He cheerfully jumped from her lap and grabbed ahold of her hand, leading her out of her warm room. A chill immediately settled into her flesh, despite her northern garb. She donned a grey dress that had a blue undertone to it and grey furs that lined it.

Summer still lived on and had for quite some time now. However, Winterfell was far up north just enough that it would have snowing spells and the chilling cold at times. There was a constant briskness to the air, a slight nip to it if you will. Sometimes, however, it would blow snow and have a chill so intense, one would think it was winter. It made Amirina miss Dorne even more. But she could not deny that the chill of Winterfell had grown on her (she blamed it on the Stark blood in her).

Bran led her through the halls of the keep, his small hand grasping onto her own. Amirina smiled as they walked around the dark stone architecture. She rather enjoyed the way Winterfell had been built and its design. It was comfortable, albeit cold due to the stone, but warm in a home sense and from the spruce and fir wood. She liked it here. Sunspear was warm at all times due to the sun never hiding behind grey clouds. The sandstone walls protected the inhabitants from becoming cooked like pigs on a spit; however, it was always warm still due to the open concept of the castle. Amirina had liked it but she wasn't sure how she would deal with the blistering heat after Winterfell.

The two continued walking, Bran knowing the way to the training grounds by the armory by heart.

"I think there's enough snow to make a few balls," Amirina noted, remembering the amount of snow that had fallen the last night. She had woken up from a fit of dreams and saw snow falling. She had also walked to Luwin's tower in the young morn and seen a couple of inches of snow below her riding boots. They were the only shoes she had that would work when going outside now. Her slippers simply weren't protecting her feet anymore.

Bran looked up at her and smiled hopefully, "You really think so?"

"I know so," she joked, giving a wink to the boy of seven name days.

He gave a giggle and continued along his path; the two of them reaching the doors to the yards. They silently creeped out, hoping the bustle of the armory, stables, and training grounds would keep their entrance subtle and discreet.

Amirina decided to take lead then, placing a finger to her lips to make sure Bran was quiet as well. He nodded and smiled, excited to have someone to play with. The Martell sniggered and then grasped her leather gloves which were tied to her side at all times. She never wanted to lose them, especially in the North. Fingers always went first. She slipped those on and walked over to a patch of thicker snow, motioning for Bran to follow her actions. He accompanied her and picked up some snow, forming it into a tight ball with her.

Amirina looked around and saw Robb, Jon, and Theon, all practicing their archery. The girl knew they were all too busy comparing their cocks to even pay attention to the trouble approaching them.

Rina made a few more balls and handed a couple to Bran before taking as light of steps towards the shooting range as possible. She knew who she would hit first as she kneeled behind a wooden post and some stacks of hay sitting by the range.

A sharp cry from the one and only Theon Greyjoy alerted the other two boys to an unknown presence. Amirina had to stop herself from cackling loudly as she spied the kraken wiping the back of his head and coming up with only melting snow.

"I swear to the gods of old and new, your little sister needs to get in check, Stark," Theon swore, rolling his grey eyes at Robb.

The Stark heir and his bastard brother both started chuckling, Robb especially.

"Arya has always had quite the grudge against you, Theon. I wouldn't be surprised if that was the first of many," he joked, receiving a glare from his ten and eight friend.

Robb had grown up, Amirina had noticed quite a lot. So had Jon. The former had thicker auburn curls and eyes that seemed to grow more blue by the day. His jaw was strong now, his facial features becoming prominent with manhood. He had reached his ten and five nameday not too long ago (an event Amirina missed by a fortnight). He had grown taller too, passing Amirina by a whole head in height. She only came up to his chin now, and that annoyed her beyond belief. His build had become stocky with how he worked his body. She would be lying if she said the Tully-haired boy didn't make her want to swoon once or twice.

Jon had grown too. Perhaps just as well or better than Robb. Jon's dark brown (nearly black) curls had grown out a bit more and those dark grey eyes of his seemed to grow more lonely with each word from Catelyn. His jaw had grown stronger too, although, it had a bit of a smoother shape to it that Robb did not have and was long like Ned's. He had grown in height as well, reaching a hair or so taller than Robb. His body, unlike his half-brother's however, was lean and had seemingly good muscle underneath his leathers.

"What're you starin' at, Rina?" Bran asked, forcing Amirina to slowly realize she had been gazing fondly at the boys they had decided to attack.

She looked over at Bran and smiled, "Oh nothin', just thinking about how you all have grown so much. Especially you, young pup."

She sneaked a peek over the bales of hay and saw that all three of the boys had their backs turned. Two boys of ten and five, and one of ten and eight. Two were younger and one was older than her. It was an easy fight if they noticed it was her. Downside was that she had no weapon to fight them off. An idea then popped in her head and she looked over a Bran with a wicked (in a playful way) smirk. He'd be her shield if need be.

"On my mark," she said, grabbing a snowball, and readying herself. Another was in her left hand, ready to be transferred to her right and then rocketed towards a boy. "I'll get Robb and Jon, and you get Theon. He likes ya far more than he likes me."

Bran giggled and nodded, making sure to be ready.

"Three…two…" she started, ready to pounce, "one!"

Amirina darted up as quickly as possible and threw a ball immediately at Jon's back, his being the closest. Bran's ball hit Theon on the nape of his neck. She had apparently timed her throw and Bran's perfectly, because right as Robb turned his head towards them to see where the attack was coming from, Amirina's ball hit him straight upon his nose.

She pulled a hand up to her face to stifle the laugh that threatened to burst from her. Theon had seen and hunched over, a laugh tearing through him. Jon didn't laugh that much, mainly a chuckle with a smile that seemed like he didn't want it there.

Robb's face was red from the chill of the snow and the force of impact. Amirina watched as he wiped the melting ice off of his face, his blue eyes closed and his eyebrows knotted together. He flicked the liquid off of his fingers and stared directly at her. She then pointed at Bran and received a gasp of betrayal from her young companion.

"It wasn't me, Robb, I swear!" the boy exclaimed, placing his hands in the air in surrender.

Rina gave a mock sigh and rolled her eyes, "Oh like I could have aim like a marksman. I'm a woman, I can only do needlework and cook."

Bran narrowed his eyes at her before pouncing upon her.

She gave a gasp and laughed as the boy started to throw snow upon her. Amirina started laughing with amusement before pushing the boy off of her playfully. "Come now Bran, we're partners!" she said, grasping his hands. "They know you didn't do it, my aim is far too good for that to have been you. I distracted them like a true tactician."

The best part about everything going on at the moment was that the three boys had gathered their own armfuls of snow and were standing by the bales now, listening to every word spoken.

"Now, Bran, I'm going to need you to listen to every word I say," she said, grasping him by the shoulders, acting as if the situation were life or death.

"Alright, Rina," he said, understanding the dramatics she was creating and playing along. He found it much more fun that way.

She smiled and looked around, as if not wanting to be heard. Amirina leaned in and gave a mock whisper. "If you want to be a true knight, you must save your lady," she said, a smirk on her lips. She knew she had gotten Bran once she said knight. The boy only dreamed of becoming one.

He nodded and puffed out his chest slightly, a proud look on his face. "I will protect you, Lady Rina!" he said, making Amirina giggle.

She mocked as close to a curtsy as she could while kneeling in the snow.

"Thank you, my brave Ser Bran."

"You won't be thanking your knight for very long," was all Amirina heard before snow was dumped on her and Bran was spared.

She gave a sharp gasp as the ice fell upon her and into her dress through the neckline. She felt the already melting snow liquify against her skin and trickle down her back and between her breasts. Amirina stood and tried shaking whatever she could off as best as possible. It was melting in her hair. Of course, the day she let her hair down for once, she mused bitterly. Rina wiped some snow off of her red features, flicking it out just as Robb had done earlier.

Her brown orbs stared at the three boys who had been sniggering. She placed her hands upon her hips and decided to be annoying.

"You simply can not just throw snow upon a girl! I am a lady and you boys should know better than to do that. Am I not correct, Ser Bran?" she said, not even looking her little cousin at the last part. She knew he'd side with her.

"Oh yes, you never throw snow on a lady," Bran said, making Amirina smile with victory.

"You throw it at her!"

Amirina's smile dropped and she gave a nervous chuckled. "Come now, you boys wouldn't do that to a lady," she laughed, placing her hands in surrender. "I might catch cold now due to the snow already melting upon me. Your mother would not approve of that," she said, trying her best to guilt trip them.

Robb smirked and then shrugged, looking between Jon, Theon, and Bran. "I'm not so sure, dear cousin," he said, looking directly at her. He squatted down and grasped a handful of snow, patting it gently. He then stood and approached Amirina.

"Oh, no, no-"

Amirina was cut off when Robb dropped the handful of snow upon her head. She closed her eyes at the icy cold feeling now upon her curls and scalp.

"From the bottom of my heart, dear cousin," he laughed in a playful manner.

"Robb Stark!" Amirina called, watching her cousins and their friend walk away, leaving her in an amused yet frustrated pose in the training grounds of Winterfell.

What she had not seen however was her aunt and uncle standing beside her father, observing the interactions between the cousins.

* * *

Amirina walked alongside her father, her left arm placed on the crook of his elbow. She had changed from earlier in the day after the snow incident. Her old dress was hanging in the washroom, probably having been cleaned against a washboard and soaked in warm water from the piping in the keep. Her current dress was the same coloring as her first but it had a neckline that only scooped down barely past her collarbone. Her Martell necklace sat upon her chest and her Stark brooch was sat upon her desk in her room. And that reminded her of the letter.

"So, uncle is planning to give me away again," she started, her dry hair (finally having rid of the melted snow) twisted away from her face and pulled into a braid at the back of her head, while long and wild curls bounced behind her.

Her father sighed and kept his eyes ahead, "I know." Amirina was not surprised her father knew. Doran had been sending her ravens for a fortnight now, wishing for her to return home so she may meet her newest suitor. The strange thing was that Doran was the one arranging for all of her marital responsibilities, while her own father stood at the sidelines and watched with an unspoken sadness. He did not want her married.

She cocked an eyebrow and kept her own eyes trained forward. "You do not encourage nor stop him, why?" she asked.

"Because Doran wants what is best for Dorne but he does not understand that you are my daughter. Remember, he raised you as well when I could not. He views you as his own, and he wants to take charge of parts of your life, my desert rose."

Amirina sighed and nodded. She understood it well, but she wished it was not true. She loved Doran, as if he was a second father. And at times, he was! However, it became to be a bit much sometimes and she knew Oberyn was not always appreciative of it.

"What are your thoughts on me staying in Winterfell for a little while longer, papa?" she asked casually, not wanting to stress it too much but also wanting to make it known.

Oberyn led the way as they continued walking through the chilled walkways. "I am neither thrilled nor taken by surprise to hear you ask that question. Answer me: was it the little wolf that asked if you would?" he knew the question would come at one point or another. They simply spent too much time here.

"Yes. He came to me in my chambers and told me as to why I should take up a longer residence here. He had become much like a brother to me, papa. I must at least give him some form of an answer." she said, her chocolate-looking eyes in the firelight of the torches scanning the stone walls. "It is the least I can do for the boy."

The duo took a left, entering into the main walkway before having to exit into the brisk air of the night to get to the Great Hall. "I will think on it, Rina. Then I will have to discuss it with your aunt and uncle, if I even believe for a moment that it is a possibility," he conceded, causing a smile to curl over Amirina's cold burnt lips.

"And make sure to find a salve for your lips, Amirina. They are drying from the cold," he warned and slightly scolded.

Rina rolled her eyes and continued on with her father, welcoming the warmth and light of the hall willingly.

They were having a larger dinner this night due to Bran's nameday approaching within the week. Amirina and her father were due to leave either the day before or the day of, but if she stayed, that would be her present to him. And something else of course. She just wasn't sure yet. So the dinner was being held in their honor and just in case they missed Bran's nameday dinner.

They also had these larger ones when they arrived and sometimes when they left. Amirina liked them quite a bit and rather enjoyed seeing all of her maternal extended family in one place. However, it did make her sad, as Jon was usually not there. When they were younger, it was a bit different, but Rina knew that Catelyn had discouraged him from attending. It was a shame to Amirina and she found it disrespectful to Jon. He still had Stark blood. He was loyal to his half-family. But because his mother was someone else, he was treated like shit at the bottom of a shoe at times. The Northern culture is so weird, she mused silently.

Amirina took in the hall, enjoying it again, perhaps for her last time this trip if her father would not permit her a longer visit. She observed the dark stone floors that danced with torch light. Then there were the spruce pillars holding up the wooden supports that kept the ceiling from collapsing upon them. There were banners hung up, the head of a direwolf on a plane of white. Then there were stitched murals hanging upon some walls. Some created generations past. Some threaded and needled just a few years ago. All of them told stories of the North. Some of them told of Bran the Builder and the Stark lineage. Others portrayed the Night King and the stories Old Nan told with a great fervor. She admired it all.

"Your mother would have never let you leave here," her father started, a faraway look in his dark eyes.

"And why is that, papa?"

Oberyn looked down at her and smiled, "Because she would have wanted you to love it as much as she did."

Amirina then looked puzzled. Her father spoke of her mother openly, however, he did not speak of her often. Rarely did he speak of her in Dorne. Only when they were in the North or sparring by the cliffs would he speak about Katerina. If Rina had to guess why, she would have put gold dragons on the fact that her father's paramour followed him everywhere and fights ensued if he spoke of Katerina in front of her or their daughters.

Amirina did not like Ellaria Sand, and it was easy to see why. The paramour of Oberyn Martell changed him. When she wasn't around, Rina's father was soft spoken and quiet. When she was around, however, he was flamboyant and egotistical. Amirina knew of her father's past of sleeping with a multitude of women and sometimes men, and the time now that he did the same thing. She did not judge him for that; for who was she to judge? But she knew that when he spoke of her mother, his wife, he did so with such gentle and compassionate words. He was no Red Viper. He was no Prince of Dorne. He was simply Oberyn Martell. And it was at those times and at times like this where Amirina got to see the true face of her father.

"If she loved Winterfell so much, papa, why did she leave so willingly?" she asked, the duo approaching the table they were to sit at. They sat at the head table, where the Stark family and noble guests always dined. Those of lesser status or lineage always ate at the clusters of smaller tables that were no less comfortable.

Her father pulled her chair out for her then, "Because she knew it was her duty as a Stark."

Amirina sat and nodded her head in thanks to Oberyn. She contemplated what he said and looked up at the tanned man. "If it was her duty, how did she come to loving you? You never told me just how she fell in love with you, father. You would always speak of your true love, yet you never mention the method of falling in love."

Oberyn chuckled and placed a kiss on the top of her head and hair. "I will tell you another time. For now, my desert flower, enjoy your time with your cousins," he said, patting her on the head and heading towards the end of the table where her uncle and aunt sat calmly.

Looking around, Amirina realized that her female cousins were both yet to arrive. She knew Sansa would take ages to get ready for the smallest things. It was something that worried Rina. The girl was so self-obsessed at such a young age (well she was ten and two), that Amirina wondered what would become of her when she became older. It was not good to have such characteristics so early, and the Martell mused that it was partially Ned's fault. He spoiled that child like no other.

Arya, on the other hand, was absolutely hysterical to Amirina. She had a ferocity that some knights failed to showcase. The youngest girl had shoulder-length brown hair and a long face like Ned's. She was short, very much so (even for her age), and she was tiny. Amirina joked the girl would soon be skin and bone. Arya would always bite back with a quick rebuttal and impress Rina. She was rather fond of the girl and would take her over any other Stark (but she would never say that).

"Well, are you not just a sight for sore eyes, Martell," the voice of Theon Greyjoy rang in her ears.

Amirina rolled her eyes and huffed in exasperation.

"And I would rather be blind than see your face, Greyjoy," she said, looking over at the youth. Theon was not ugly, not even close, for there were many ugly men that Amirina had seen in life. He just was not spectacular like Robb or Jon. He was…okay. However, his personality made him far worse in the attraction standpoint. It was hard to like him unless you were a whore. Even then, apparently some didn't like him.

Theon laughed and threw his head back. "You never cease to make a smile appear on my face, Rina. Especially when your back is turned towards me," he said suggestively.

"And yet, I feel my best when my back is towards you, Theon. It means I can ignore you and leave my eyes unscarred."

Theon shook his head and leaned close to her, "I can make you feel your best-"

"Layoff 'er, Theon, will ya?" a voice interrupted. Amirina thanks the gods of old and new for Robb's intervention. "That's still my cousin and I told ya, no messin' with her."

"Oh c'mon, Robb. Ya know we're just havin' a bit of fun," Theon joked, a playful scoff at his best friend's words.

"And if you mean by having fun, annoying me, then I do dare say we have been," Amirina joked, honestly annoyed by Theon's approaches and antics. The only plus to marriage/betrothal (possibly) was that most men laid off on their approachings.

"You wound me so, Martell," Theon placed his hands over his heart.

Amirina smirked and leaned against the table. "Then I've achieved my goal," she laughed, receiving a playful glare from him. Was she annoyed by him? Of course. Did that mean she could not be decent and make merry and joke? No. It was how she dealt with annoyance. She would clearly show it but she would also make light of it.

Theon then put his arm around the shoulders of Amirina and laughed, "One day, Rina, you will be unable to resist me."

"The only way that day would come, dear friend, is if she lost both her sight and ability to hear. She would not even know it was you," Robb joked, receiving a laugh from both Rina and Theon.

"I do believe the young Stark-ling is right, dear Theon!" she agreed, her smile wide and infectious.

Theon laughed as well, though his pride was obviously suffering. Amirina knew the Greyjoy was not used to women refusing him. "You will come around to the idea, Rina. I hear Dornishmen will fuck anything," he said, his arm sliding off of her shoulders as he leaned against the table.

"Theon," Robb scolded, "you can not just say that-"

Amirina laughed, "Robb, dear cousin, I live in Dorne. There must be one conversation where that topic wanders in daily. You mustn't worry over my ears' innocence." She gave a pat to his cheek, the slight red tinge visible in the firelight.

She then turned to Theon, who had an eyebrow raised. "To answer your comment, Theon, I would have to say that is true for most. I, however, am a lady, and do not partake in the fucking of everything that walks and has a nice form. I still am a lady, you know."

"Your Stark blood runs too deep," Theon muttered, knowing full well that Amirina and Robb could hear.

"Maybe," Amirina shrugged, "but my blood runs thicker through the sand of Dorne."

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you all so much for the positivity and the immense response from just the first chapter! It's been very appreciated! I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much as the first. These coming chapters will be a bit shorter than the first, as I wanted to start developing relationships and character as soon as possible and that can be difficult to do at times. I hope that everyone enjoyed this chapter and I would appreciate any thoughts, constructive criticism, or even praise! I love you all!_

 _ **Anna (Guest)** : Thank you so much! I hope you continue enjoying this and that this chapter did not disappoint!_

 _ **Arianna Le Fay** : Thank you! :) And I never particularly based her upon people. Although, if I had to base her on anyone, or say that she resembles someone…I guess you could say Sofia Boutella almost and Amirina look similar facially with certain differences. In some ways, she could even look like Jessica Biel mixed with Sofia (idk). They do look similar though. And yes, Rina will definitely affect the plot in certain ways, she is a new player of course. The main events will stay true but there will be possible changes. And possibly. The love interest is up for possibilities! But subtle hints as to who it will be will be placed within chapters! :)_

 _ **HPuni101** : I appreciate the kind words! I hope this chapter was just as good and thank you!_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N** : So I just realized that the faceclaims I thought of last chapter were not good enough. I changed it after seeing a certain movie. Gal Gadot has got to be the closest to Amirina's looks. After seeing Wonder Woman, I have to go with her now. So **GAL GADOT IS THE CLOSEST IN LOOKS TO AMIRINA**. Facial wise of course. Also, I made a cover!_

 _Haha alright, onto the next chapter :)_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own GOT or ASOIAF, I only own Amirina and her family, except for Oberyn of course_

* * *

Oberyn sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He did not want to be up at such an ungodly hour, but some servant had fetched him at the crack of the sun clawing at the horizon. Something about Lord Stark wishing to speak with him, was what the small man had said quietly. It was all conglomerated inside of his dazed mind. He couldn't really remember what had happened at the feast last night either. Something about some wine and ale. Then maybe Amirina dragging him back to his chambers. Something like that.

"I apologize, Oberyn," the deep voice of Eddard Stark awakened him. He must've started dozing off, as he startled quite easily, as if caught with something that belonged not to him.

Oberyn turned his head and followed the footsteps of Eddard. "Yes, well, I can not say I am surprised by the early-risings of you northerners," he said, surprised slightly (but he wouldn't let on) that this had not happened more regularly over the times he had come for his daughter to visit.

"I take it Dornish customs proceed differently?" Ned raised an eyebrow as he sat down at his spruce wood desk.

Oberyn gave a laugh and leaned back in his chair. "We southerners live much unlike you do. We sleep late into the morn and retire late in the night when the moon is leaving," he informed, exaggerating the slightest bit. He and Ellaria stayed up till the moon left often. He knew Amirina would retire early enough to where she could rise with the few birds there were. She was just like her mother in that aspect.

"Does Amirina take after that tradition?" he asked, as if reading Oberyn's thoughts.

The Red Viper shook his head. "No, she's much like Katerina was, you understand? Retire early and wake up even earlier. She walks the gardens often and sometimes goes to the top of the Sun Tower. Kat would do the same until she had Elios. Then, she stayed in the castle during most of the day, walking the halls and cooing the child into rest," he spoke, a smile on his tanned features as he reminisced. It had been a while since he has relived those memories.

Katerina, her brunette curls bouncing along with her, cooing to the bundle in her arms. Her orange and yellow robes flowing slightly from the streams of wind that graced Sunspear. A smile on her freckled features. Oak brown eyes staring at a babe with nothing but pure adoration and love. A small giggle erupting from the smiling yet toothless baby. Crinkles developing next to the Stark's eyes. The words 'Who is mine and whose am I?' coming out in childish tones but spoken by Oberyn's wife. That inviting smile she gave him whenever he walked up to her. The eyes of whichever babe had come next, staring right back up at him. It was all something he wanted for. Something he needed. Something he would never get back.

Ned chuckled a little bit then, "Katerina always was strange that way. I'm certain she created that rule for this keep."

Oberyn chuckled at this, having no ability to disagree. Katerina had a way to get people to agree with her. It was that infectious smile of her's that did the trick.

"She rests…peacefully?" Oberyn could not help but ask.

Ned sighed and gave a slow nod, almost as if not wanting to come to terms with the idea still. "As peacefully as the dead can rest," he spoke gravely, his two sisters buried beneath the keep in the crypts. One older and one younger. Both buried by him.

"You know I wanted her here," Oberyn said, his storm cloud dark eyes trained downwards, focusing on nothing in particular. "I could not bring myself to bury her in Sunspear."

Eddard stayed silent, but Oberyn could feel the slight waves of resentment and understanding rolling off of him.

"I could not bare to know her fate and let her rest below the place she was not safe in the end. I could not do it, Stark. No matter how much I loved your sister, my wife, I could not bring myself to it," Oberyn almost confessed, as if feeling guilty all these years. He was filled with guilt of course; he had felt as such for the past seventeen years. It was his fault his wife, his love, his one and only, was sleeping below the ground in a crypt.

"And that is why I will never agree with you, Oberyn Martell. You let my older sister die. You allowed it to happen. You had been careless. But knowing you will live with that guilt for the rest of your life gives me some sense of appeasement. Of course, I wish you no pain, Oberyn, but my sister is dead. I can not simply be sympathetic with you," Ned spoke, his hands folded upon his desk, the fingers not stirring in the slightest. "Do you even know where the children are?"

Oberyn sat silently, a terse air surrounding them. He did not want to answer.

"You do not, I assume," Eddard raised a bushy, oak brown eyebrow, disappointment clear in his orbs.

"No…" Oberyn spoke softly, his eyes distant now, the memory obviously flashing before his vision, haunting him with a violent passion, "no, I do not know."

"And the urn? What does that hold?"

Oberyn swallowed and ran a hand through his black hair that receded from a widow's peak and reached halfway down his neck. "The dirt upon which they were-"

Eddard made a motion for the poor man to stop talking. The Stark lord had realized his mistake and wanted to make some form of amends. Yes, he did not like Oberyn Martell. He had many reasons: his whoring around, his bastardy, his lack of control around wine, his marriage to Katerina. He strongly disliked all of it. He made it clear to Oberyn. But he would not make the man relive the memories of his dead children. Not after claiming he deserved the guilt he felt from Katerina's death. That was enough.

"I should not be bringing up such memories, forgive me," Eddard said, receiving a slow nod from Oberyn. Oberyn was thankful the Stark had stopped him. That was the one thing he refused to relive. The one moment he hated to see in his dreams.

"Why did you retrieve me? Surely you had discussions in mind," Oberyn quickly changed the subject, his words heavy and rushed no longer.

Eddard nodded and leaned forward, an intensity not commonly seen in his oak eyes. "Amirina is actually who I wanted to discuss," he said, as if common knowledge.

Oberyn simply sighed and motioned for the Stark lord to continue.

"She rather likes it here, does she not?" Ned asked, a knowing glance giving him away. He would know all the answers to his questions.

"She has taken to Winterfell," Oberyn agreed, glad for Ned agreeing to the switch of topics.

Ned nodded and clasped his hands together, placing them against the spruce wood. "You are her father. You speak for her. Do you not?"

"I do," Oberyn affirmed.

"Then what be your thoughts on Amirina staying? Just for some time. To an extent, indefinitely, but not forever, Martell."

Oberyn chuckled at this, amused that Ned asked of the same topic that Amirina had brought up last night.

"She asked my thoughts on it before the feast last eve," he confessed, a small quirk in his smile. It was not even truly a smile. A simple upturning in the corner of his lips. "I ensured her that I would rest on the idea and converse with you about the matters of it."

"And do you entertain the idea?"

Oberyn paused a moment before nodding. "I do, but for a large reason."

Ned looked at Oberyn as if expecting the man to finish the reason without imploring for it.

"My brother," Oberyn started, a tone of dismay apparent, "has been…selecting men for a possible betrothal to Amirina. Willas Tyrell, Andrey Dalt, possibly Loras Tyrell, Cletus Yronwood…"

There were many other suitors, most older than younger. Those men, however, were closest to his precious Amirina in age. They still, were too old for her, except for Loras, who was a year younger than her. However, Oberyn had heard rumors and he was not fond of the boy becoming the husband to his daughter. Oberyn practiced certain…sexual interactions, but he did so with a woman who wanted it to happen. He did not want his daughter trapped in a loveless marriage, of which one to Loras would be.

"And if Amirina was to stay, you would hope to either delay or stop the possible betrothals?" Ned concluded, leaning back and scratching at the close beard he grew.

Oberyn only nodded in confirmation.

"She knows of this as well?"

Oberyn chuckled then, "Of course she does. My daughter is not dull nor daft. She figured it out quickly and has vehemently rejected each and every request for her hand. She has more than likely already written to my brother about the latest request."

Eddard Stark gave a slight laugh, one that came from his chest but was short and quiet enough that one could not hear the warmth nor depth he usually produced. "I see," he spoke softly, a curious look in his Stark eyes. "You agree to her staying then…until you wish her back upon where she lives?"

The Martell prince had to think for a moment then. He had not really thought of it. Not truly. Leaving his daughter? His one reminder of Katerina? His true heir? His true blood? His everything? He was willing to allow her permanent visitation in Winterfell for some time? He was not truly sure, but he wanted his daughter happy. No matter how much he disliked Eddard and Catelyn, he could not force his daughter to feel the same. She obviously loved them dearly and the same was for them. Oberyn could not strip his daughter of such feelings and perhaps an experience here and there. He trusted the Starks just enough for his daughter to stay for a little while. But only enough that he'd never let her live here. Just…for a few moons.

"She best be treated fairly, equally, kindly, respectfully, and most of all, correctly. She may be your niece, but she is my daughter, Stark. If I return and a curl is out of place upon her scalp, I will personally ensure your house no longer fears the winter," Oberyn stated darkly. He was not kidding. He was serious...deadly serious. He was a father and a negotiator, but he was also the Red Viper. And vipers did not fear the wolves of the North.

Ned nodded, "You have my word, Oberyn."

"Good," the prince stated, a dark gleam in his snake eyes, "I would hate to have to end your line."

* * *

"Why won't you marry 'im, Rina? He's a knight!" a now teenage Sansa Stark exclaimed in exasperation, as if Amirina could not understand.

The Martell girl was in charge of the girls for the day. The septa did not want to deal with the two bickering and sending looks to one another. And in all honesty, Rina was glad to spend some time with Arya and Sansa. She did not often get full days with them. Their bickering always got tiresome, but their personalities were conflicting enough to be humorous for her.

Amirina chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Not every lady wants to marry a knight, Sansa. I'd much rather marry a man who is smart and can fight. I hear the Knight of Flowers can barely read a tome," she joked half-heartedly.

She wasn't lying totally.

"I beg your pardon?" Sansa said, as if offended personally. "He is a Tyrell! Of course he can read Rina!"

Amirina raised an eyebrow at that, her hands pausing from their ministrations in the braiding of Arya's hair. "Is that so? You know him personally, dear Sansa?"

Arya sniggered at this, covering her mouth slightly. Sansa huffed and crossed her arms. "Well, I know him not, but-"

"Then you can not assume he can read," Amirina chuckled.

"And you can not assume he can not, by your logic," Sansa retorted back, inciting a surprised look to wash over Rina's features. She then laughed heartily, going back to her task at hand.

She smiled, "You've spent far too much time with me, Sansa."

"Of course not! I have spent far too little time with you!" Sansa exclaimed and stood up, traversing the room and wrapping her arms around Amirina's neck. This caused the Martell girl to laugh and reach up with one hand to stroke the arm of her cousin.

"Why of course, young wolf. Do forgive me for that."

Sansa pondered this for a moment before sighing. "I guess I can allow that to pass. Just this once, however!"

"What 'bout me?" Arya almost exclaimed. She whipped her head around to face her cousin and older sister. "Sansa gets to be with you all the time! I've fallen behind on fightin' ya know!"

Amirina laughed and patted her little cousin's head lightly. "You're right, little one," she smiled, pushing Arya's head back to its original position so she may continue her braiding.

She tilted her head, "What if I split my days with ya? One of you two could have my sought after attention at a certain time and the other would be before or after?"

"I guess that is acceptable…for now of course," Sansa conceded, as if barely accepting the terms.

Amirina finished braiding the short brown locks upon Arya's scalp, waiting for the younger girl's answer.

"It's only okay if I get more time!" the youngest female Stark huffed.

Amirina shook her finger with a slight laugh, "Ah ah, no sweet one. You both have equal time with me."

"Rina's quite smart," a voice startled the three girls, "I believe it best to heed her words."

Amirina turned around and saw Jon standing in her doorway, alongside Robb. She figured it was the heir who spoke, as Jon's voice was rougher than his half brother's own. Robb stood, his auburn curls shifted slightly, a grin on his young face. Jon, however, simply stood with a straight set of lips, as if forcing himself not to speak. She knew it was because of Sanaa's presence. Rina loved the girl but she would speak to her mother if Jon even spoke a word out of line. It was a damn shame.

"Not quite, Stark," Amirina said, sticking her nose slightly in the air with a faux tone of a massive ego. "I'm incredibly intelligent. Have you not learned that in my time here?"

Robb laughed, receiving a hug from a running Sansa. "Forgive me for my mistake, princess," he joked lightly.

Amirina rolled her eyes but laughed good heartedly. She then pointed her attention to Jon, smiling a slight bit wider. "And what do you presume of my intelligence, Jon?"

The bastard shifted slightly before clearing his throat. "I do know that you are well rounded in all areas of knowledge, so I believe you to be smarter than most believe," he said, receiving a raised eyebrow from his brother.

"By the gods of old and new," Amirina stood and smiled, "Jon, you may have just become my favorite cousin."

"What about me?!" Arya, Sansa, and Robb, all exclaimed at the same moment.

Rina shrugged and walked over to her two male cousins. She smiled and pulled them together in a hug, leaning back slightly. "I love all of you equally!" she chuckled and placed a big kiss on each of their cheeks. They grimaced and pushed away to wipe their cheeks off slightly.

"Do you not appreciate my love? I am positive you just whined for it, Stark," she said, as if offended the two would act that way.

"I appreciate it, of course. Just not with kisses like that of a hound," Robb muttered, his Tully blue eyes rolling.

Rina gasped and placed a hand upon her chest, "You would compare a princess to a hound? Has your mother taught you no manners?"

"Theon is his best friend, Rina," Jon muttered, a small smile on his usually stoic features.

The comment amused Amirina and she laughed lightly. "Of course, how could I ever forget that," she rolled her eyes jokingly, "that boy makes one forget anything their respectable mothers taught them."

"Whatever you believe, Rina," Robb rolled his eyes. He then straightened up and cleared his throat. "We came here for a reason. Ser Rodrik wanted you to come spar with us. He apparently thinks that you would be able to contend with Jon, Theon, and I."

"She can, Robb," Jon whispered.

Before Rina could agree to that, Sansa stood up and stood by the Martell. "Amirina is a lady! She can not go and spar like a man!"

Robb laughed then and gave a pat on Sanaa's Tully-red braided hair. "Sansa, dear sister, Rina is a Martell. Fighting is in her blood," Robb said, as if Sansa should have known that.

"She's never seen me spar, Stark," Amirina chuckled, wrapping her arms around the taller but younger girl's shoulders.

Sansa turned her head and gave a gasp. "You DO spar?!"

Amirina laughed and nodded, "Of course I do, Sansa. I'm a Martell. To not fight would be a crime against my family." She then gave a kiss to the side of the girl's head and squeezed her in a hug quickly. "Now I must depart so I may beat your brothers," she smiled, receiving an eye roll from Robb.

"I wanna come!" Arya exclaimed, jumping from the furs upon Rina's bed. She ran to Amirina and tugged slightly on her skirts. "I wanna see ya fight, Rina!"

Amirina squatted down to Arya's height and smiled, "Well of course you can come, little pup. Surely, you will be cheering me on?"

"Yes! I only cheer for you! You're much better at everything than Robb or Jon!" Arya laughed lightly, causing Amirina to laugh as well.

She then stood fully and placed a hand on Arya's head. "You two boys have heard it here first then! Arya cheers for only me!" she laughed at this, Jon slightly joining in as well.

"Arya!" Sansa exclaimed, slightly bewildered by the actions of her cousin and sister. Amirina felt for the girl…but only slightly. She had not been raised the same as her, so she did not understand how she felt such a distaste for sparring and girls partaking in it.

The Martell laughed and then pushed the boys out of her chambers. "Now, I must become fit for such activities. You may wait like gentlemen outside of my door, so you two may escort me to the grounds. Or, you may act like normal boys and go down to the grounds wait for me," she said, closing the wooden door upon their amused expressions.

Amirina then clapped her hands and smiled, "Now…time to finally do something that peaks my interest."

* * *

Amirina walked down to the grounds, Arya trailing behind her. Sansa had given her an excuse as to why she could not attend, and the older girl allowed it. She could not force the girl with hair of fire to observe things she did not agree with. She could do as she pleased. Just as Amirina could spar should she wish to. And at the moment, she very much wished to.

Her outfit was simple. It was much like the ones her father wore. It was a maroon tunic that stretched into two parts: one part down the front and another down the back. They allowed for Rina's black trousers to show and for her to move incredibly freely. Fabric akin to her tunic wrapped around her hands and down her forearms, extending into the sleeves of her outfit. The neckline was non-existent, especially due to the coolness to the air and slight nip to it. The collar went to the base of her jawline and hugged it somewhat comfortably: enough for her to move. Simple riding boots covered her feet and her trousers were tucked into the mouth of them. It was something she wore all of her time in Dorne.

And she much preferred it over the dresses she wore up north.

Arya sped her strides up so she could hold the left hand of Rina. The young Stark girl was often rambunctious and more oft a loner than not. She was independent and no one could blame her for that. Most northern children were as such. However, something about Amirina Martell caused Arya Stark to flock and hold onto her as if she was her older sister and protector. Rina did not mind it. She was fond of the younger girl and loved her like she was her own. And in ways, she was. She was her cousin, yes, but Rina treated her like a sister and often times a daughter. The dynamics of their relationship were often strange to others but was accepted due to their rankings in society.

"Robb Stark and Jon Snow!" Amirina exclaimed, gathering the two boys' attention. "When a lady offers two choices, a boy should take the gentleman's path. Not the obviously incorrect choice! Poor Arya had to escort me down here instead."

Ser Rodrik Cassel chuckled at the Martell girl and crossed his large arms against his equally large chest. "Amirina," he smiled lightly, "you never fail to amuse me."

Amirina smiled at the older man and walked up to him. "Amusement must then be my sole purpose," she joked lightly.

"Aye," Rodrik agreed, "that and fightin'."

The Martell girl laughed, the brothers starting to approach the pair. "I wouldn't say fighting is my purpose," she declined such an idea, her brown eyes catching sight of her cousins. "However, I do believe beating gentlemen such as my cousins could be it."

"You don't truly believe such a thing, now do you?" Robb questioned, a lopsided grin on his Tully features.

Jon then leaned over and cocked an eyebrow, "She has many reasons to do such a thing, Robb."

Robb brushed his half brother off and smirked. "Rina couldn't last with us," he said, half serious and half joking. The true Stark had seen his cousin fight. He just had never fought her before. He believe spears to be easy to conquer with a sword and he truly believe that being a woman was a disadvantage to Amirina. So, in his own way, he believe his older cousin to not be as talented as he and she would easily lose.

Jon on the other hand…he had been at the receiving end of her spear. He had fought her, only once before, when they were younger. He couldn't fully remember it, it was a time when they were too young to truly care about sparring and fighting. It was a game to them. A game that was fun and not to be taken seriously. He did remember his wooden sword being easily outmatched by her "spear" (in all reality it was just a large stick). And he did remember her never telling anyone of his measly defeat.

"Then fight me, Robb Stark," she challenged, her hands on her hips and a cock to her right eyebrow.

Robb smirked and grabbed a dull sword from one of the racks. "Gladly, dear cousin," he accepted, stepping into the fenced area.

Amirina scoffed at her cousin's ego, grabbing a staff that she would simply substitute as a spear. She could fight with either and probably win. Well…she would win. But in an actual duel, she would probably win. Though, she pondered, in an actual fight she had no idea as to how she would kill a man with a staff. Her father probably could accomplish such a feat.

The Martell girl stepped into the area and decided to get a feel for the staff. It was light. Probably old wood, perhaps nearly rotten from the wear and tear from the moisture of the snow and rain. But it would do for now. It wasn't an awful rod of wood, just…not the best per say. Amirina twirled it in her two hands, just as her father had shown her before. She was nowhere near as talented with a staff or spear but she had picked up on a few tricks that her father was particularly fond of.

"Is that all you can do, cousin?" Robb questioned, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Amirina rolled her darkening brown eyes (showing the weather was becoming cooler) and responded with a huff, "Of course not. If it was the only thing I was capable of, this would be a fair fight."

Jon gave a small laugh, nothing in comparison to Ser Rodrik's hoot of jovial exclamation.

"By the Old, Rina, do go kindly upon the lad," the usually stoic master-at-arms laughed out, his large hands grasping the wooden fencing.

Robb once again rolled his Tully blue eyes, his shoulders moving in tandem. Amirina knew he was getting ready. She smiled at her younger cousin, deciding to strike first and not giving him the opportunity to warm up.

Rina's boots dug into the snow-dusted mud, propelling her body towards the Stark heir. Her right arm led, the left arm pulling the other half of the staff back. The top part connected with a barely pulled up block on Robb's part. The boy grunted slightly before pushing Rina back with some difficulty. The Martell did her best to not stumble and she took a quick hop to her left, dodging the swing made by her cousin towards her right. She knew how to beat Robb. He left himself wide open most of the time. His sides, stomach, armpits, legs, and his neck (at certain times) were left open during certain moves. And Amirina knew just how to exploit that.

She knew she had weaknesses: places in which she could be defeated. The place left open by her style of fight was mainly her back and lower legs. If someone got behind her or got to her calves and ankles, she would lose. Her father could not seem to get a way to rid of those weaknesses, despite years of sparring.

Rina rolled to the right then, distracted by her mind. She had almost allowed Robb to exploit her momentary lose of concentration, and she was not a fan of that. He had swung down to her left, forcing her roll. She then stood quickly and aimed with her left to his dominant shoulder, the rod hitting on the point. He grimaced and blocked her next attack aimed for his right side. The staff connected with the dull blade heavily and caused Amirina to swing back lightly to try and gain some momentum.

Taking a step back quickly, Amirina feinted left and quickly struck Robb on his right again, once again failing to connect with his actual body. His sword, on the other hand, loved making contact with the staff. Rina was then forced to make a defensive move, as Robb pulled off quickly and made a strike from left to right. The girl parried the move horizontally and pushed back, catching the Stark boy off balance.

Amirina used this chance to crouch down low and spin her staff horizontally. The move spun herself and the weapon, hitting Robb's calves and knocking him upon his back. He landed on the ground with an oof and sucked in a deep breath, as if wind had been pushed out of him.

Rina stood from her spot and held the one end of the staff to her cousin's throat, a smile on her lips.

"Do you yield?" she asked, not allowing the wood to actually touch him.

Robb gulped slightly, his cold river blue eyes trained on the end of the rod. He swallowed in another deep breath before allowing his chest to heave once or twice to get some air in.

"I guess I must," he surrendered, his fingers loosening from the hilt of his dulled sword.

Amirina chuckled and smiled, holding out her hand, "Good spar, Stark."

Robb chuckled and grasped her hand. However…he did not pull up. He pulled his cousin down.

The cousin of the Starks gave a cry of surprise as she fell down, her body falling upon Robb's own. She gave a huff of exasperation before she felt her back upon the hardening mud. Robb leaned over her, his sword now to her neck.

"First mistake, dear cousin: never offer peace until your enemy fully yields," he stated smugly, a smirk on his thin lips.

Amirina rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, "This does not constitute as a victory, Stark. You tricked me."

"A victory is a victory, is it not?"

Giving a huff, Amirina pushed her cousin off of her and stood from the ground. She bent over and picked up the staff she had been using. "A victory is what I had. Deceit is what you created," the girl said, not offering to help up her cousin. Robb chuckled and pushed himself off of the ground, trailing after the older girl.

"Admit it," he began, "you lost."

"I did not."

"Aye, you did."

"I most certainly did not," Amirina insisted, setting the staff back onto its rack. Her brown eyes then scanned for Arya and Jon, the two having stood next to one another for the short spar. "Arya Stark, why did I not hear your words of encouragement?"

The girl sniggered slightly, "Because I knew you were too good for them. I was about to start cheering for Robb simply so his ego was not wounded."

Amirina laughed, as did Jon. "You're clever, little pup," she cracked up joyfully. Her laugh escaping slightly between her words.

"I do believe that I won," Robb inserted, raising a finger as if it symbolized his point.

Jon shook his head, "Nay, Stark, I believe Rina did win."

"Ser Rodrik, surely-"

"I apologize, my lord, however, it seems to me that Amirina is the victor of this round," the older man laughed, a small smile on his old features.

Robb began grumbling and rolled his eyes. The tree remaining children bid the master-at-arms a farewell before tracking after Robb.

The four of the shared a laugh, a few jokes, and a few words. The cousins were close and everyone could see and feel it. They made fools of one another and laughed with each and every one else. The dynamic worked; it worked better than others and it was those four that were the greatest of friends. They simply…were good.

And no one but one in the group knew the truth. Knew that Rodrik had not requested Amirina to join. Knew that only he could fight her. Knew that it would simply be the two of them, despite having spectators. Knew that he wanted to get as much time as he could with Amirina Martell. Because for some odd reason, Robb Stark liked Amirina Martell. Perhaps not enough to constitute as a "crush", but enough to be interested and thoughtful. And as he looked over to his right at her, he couldn't help but notice how his cousin's oak brown eyes sparkled lightly with different views of the light.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _Whew! That was a hard one to get through! I hit a few blocks mentally, as you may be able to tell. It's not my best chapter ever, but it's definitely not my worst. The ending felt a bit rushed but I felt that the wait had been for far too long, so I really cranked it out and stayed up till 1 to try and finish it. This will just be a bunch of filler for a while. And I apologize about that. But it builds characters and relationships that are necessary. Again, I do apologize about the quality. Please leave constructive criticism, thoughts, praise, whatever you wish, down below in the reviews. I appreciate each and every one as long as they are kind, thoughtful, and useful. Thank you guys for being so patient and dealing with this shitty chapter. The next one will definitely make up for it, I promise!_

 _ **Anna** : Thank you so much for the review once again! I greatly appreciate it and the kind words you give me! I hope this gave some insight as to what you were wishing for! More will be revealed with time though!_

 _ **CherryBlossom016** : Ah, I agree. I've always found the lack of Jon/OC fics to be sad. However, who knows what this will be! But I definitely do think the two could be cute together! Thank you!_

 _ **JoeDanger** : I've already answered your questions through PM, so I don't believe I will write the paragraph I sent you on this lol. Thank you so much for the review and the insight and help you provided me! I hope you continue to read (even after this awful chapter)!_

 _ **HPuni101** : Many thanks my dear! I hope the direction will be one you enjoy, as I know I definitely love the way I'm going!_

 _ **Anonymous0786** : Good point love. I believe Ned would never agree to such a thing. I mean, Jon is his "son". He would never just allow such a distance to be between them. I've always thought Ned would take care of Jon no matter what and him staying in Winterfell would be his safest option, especially since we now know his true heritage. So, a good point, but I don't believe Ned would allow such a thing and Amirina would never think of it._


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I don't own GOT or ASOIAF, obviously. Just Amirina and her family (not Oberyn duh)_

* * *

"Amirina?" a thick voice inquired into the room.

"You may come in, papa," Rina answered, having finished reading a book Maester Luwin had allowed her to borrow. It was a simple book, that of which threw its readers into the throughs of history. So far, Amirina had finished through the time of Aegon "The Conquerer" and his sister-wives, Rhaenys and Visenya Targaryen. She found the family's dynamics interesting and for some reason, she could not find disgust in herself at the thoughts of marrying kin. Perhaps it would be more perverse to her if she actually had a brother, but Amirina thought it to be of Valyrian culture and she could not argue with that. It was how they lived; how was it fair if she judged that?

Oberyn Martell entered his daughter's room, his hands clasped behind his back. Not once had the Dornish man changed from his traditional garb. Amirina found it odd but respected her father's choices, even if she did find him mental for doing such a thing. Her traditional Dornish garb was only worn when she went riding or sparred; at least her blood was flowing then.

"What are you reading?" her father asked, walking up to her chair and peering over her shoulder.

Amirina answered without looking up, her eyes trained on the new chapter heading, "It's called Westerosi History. Fairly bland title for an incredibly entertaining read. I just finished reading through the end of Aegon's conquests. Did you know that no one knows for sure what happened to Rhaenys? They say she either died from her fall off of Meraxes, or was crushed by him, or she was tortured until death by the Ullers."

Oberyn chuckled lightly at his daughter's intense interest and the gleam that entered her oak eyes. "You have not spent enough time reading in Dorne, I see," he observed.

Amirina cocked an eyebrow, "And why is that, father?"

"Because the Dornish scrolls and books hold the real reason Rhaenys Targaryen died," he said slightly ominously.

"Is that so?"

Oberyn nodded and stood in front of his daughter's hearth, the flames warm against his skin. His dark eyes were entranced by them, as if imagining the flames to be that of a dragon's own. "She and Meraxes fell in Hellholt. Do you know where that is?" he turned his head to face her slightly.

Amirina thought for a minute before nodding her head. "Yes, I do. If one looks at a map, Hellholt is located to Sunspear's west. It's held by House Uller and is said to be quite grim, is it not?"

"You'd be correct, my dear," Oberyn confirmed, turning his attention back to the flames. He gave a small smile, as if suddenly reminiscing, which Amirina found odd at the very least. If he was remembering a bad event, why was he giving a smile?

"Your mother read all of the books and scrolls and tomes found in Sunspear. She probably would have done the same for all of Dorne, but she had you and your siblings to worry about," he stated fondly, lost in the memories. Amirina stayed quiet then, knowing that if she spoke, her father might not speak of this memory for a while. And he rarely spoke of her mother and siblings. "Before Elios was born, your mother enjoyed reading when I was unable to attend to her. She would sit in the gardens or in our room upon the balcony, enjoying the sun's kissing rays and the slight spray of ocean water that managed to travel in the air from the cliffs. Her curls would be pinned back and she would just sit there, this…this concentrated look in those chocolate eyes of her's.

"She loved history, adored it. I would joke that she would rather take its hand in marriage than mine own." her father chuckled. Amirina simply smiled and stared at the Dornish man, wishing for him to never stop talking. Of course, he would (she knew that), but she wanted to get as much information on the woman who still held her father's heart. "When your mother found that she was with child, our first one, she had names already thought of," he turned to face his daughter then, "she had begged for Rhaenys if it be a girl and Elios should it have been a boy. I asked why she would want a Targaryen name for her daughter and she explained about the stories she had read about the sister of Aegon 'The Conquerer'."

"And what was it that she said?" Amirina asked, wishing for her father to continue.

"She explained to me the life of Rhaenys Targaryen, sister-wife to her brother Aegon I Targaryen. A man who supposedly married his sister Visenya-"

"Out of duty and Rhaenys, he married out of desire," Amirina interrupted her father, receiving a cock of an eyebrow and a chuckle.

Oberyn Martell laughed lightly and nodded, "Yes. I see you have done well with your readings. Your mother acted as if I knew not of the life of the dragon-rider. I told her as such many a time. However, she did force my mind to be changed. She rather looked up to Rhaenys. Thought of her as some," he paused and gesticulate with his hands a moment, "as some great woman. And she was! Do not believe that is something I would argue against. However, your mother was not strong. She could not wield a sword. She could not shoot to save her life. And she could not fight. All Katerina had was her wits and her mind."

Amirina found this intriguing. She had never really known that much about her mother, and learning how she was, mentally and physically was amazing. The Martell girl knew then where she received her fighting abilities.

"So," he began again, "she found strength in the name Rhaenys. I presume of course. I told your mother that she died a sad death. And never in my life had I received such a verbal lashing over something so…minuscule."

"Did she berate you for assuming a woman's death to be sad?" Amirina had to stop herself from laughing.

Oberyn chuckled at the distant memory, "That she did, my desert rose. She told me the true death of Rhaenys Targaryen. Your mother said how, yes, Meraxes was struck through one of her golden eyes with an iron bolt from a scorpion; however, Rhaenys did not die with her silver-scaled dragon. She was injured, that was true, but not enough to kill her."

"So the story," Amirina started, "of how she was taken by House Uller and tortured until death…that is truth?" In the slightest, Amirina was confused. It wasn't an honorable death in the slightest. It would be better if the Targaryen had fallen with her dragon, not died in captivity moons after.

"She did not go without a fight, Rina. Rhaenys Targaryen fought with every bit of her that she had left. She fought until exhaustion overtook her and she was dragged into the dungeons of Hellholt. Even then, they could only break her body. Her spirit never wavered until she took her last breath of life," her father explained, a passion almost overtaking him.

Amirina wanted to chuckle then. It sounded much like a story that one would read before rest. It did not sound like the truth.

"That sounds absolutely ridiculous, papa," she stated truthfully, standing from her seat and setting the book upon her desk. Rina then walked over to her father and gave him a tight hug, something she only did in private with him. She rather disliked people thinking her father was soft around her. Although, he truly was a kind and gentle man with her, in the eye of the people, he needed to be fierce and unwavering. He was the Red Viper to them, and a father to her. She pulled back slightly and smiled, "But I enjoyed the tale. It was nice to hear you talk about mama."

Oberyn smiled and placed a strand of dark wavy hair behind his daughter's ear. "Your mother would have been proud of the woman you have become, my desert flower. She would have believed you better than any Targaryen. At points, she knew you would be. It was why we named you after Martells. Named after Aliandra Martell and your mother. More so your mother, but, that was my doing."

Amirina chuckled, "Of course you would subtly name me after her. She would never allow you otherwise."

Her father then gained a distant look in his dark, Dornish eyes. It was as if a sadness suddenly washed over them, making Rina slightly regret speaking about her mother more than she should have. "No," Oberyn said, "no, she would not have."

Rina gave one final squeeze before escaping the grasp of her father's hug. She walked over to her bed and started to fix the furs, giving her hands something to do. "I assume you came to discuss other matters, papa," she said, trying to swiftly change the subject.

Her father cleared his throat before nodding, "I did, my dear. Last eve, you presented me with a request."

Amirina's eyes instantly lit up as she stopped her fidgeting hands. "And?" she tentatively asked. "And what did you decide, if at all?"

"Well," he started, walking over to her bed, and leaning his hands on the foot board, "your uncle summoned me at an unspeakable hour and proceeded to ask me mine own thoughts. He provided some excellent points as to why you should take an extended…stay here. He and I came to an agreement of sorts, but I have some rules for you."

Amirina smiled brightly and ran over to her father, engulfing him in a hug once more. "Oh thank you, papa! I promise to behave and show thanks and be kind and-"

"Not so swiftly, my dear," Oberyn interrupted, "you have to hear my conditions first."

Amirina huffed and crossed her arms, leaning against the footboard.

"First," he started, "you must stay uninvolved. You're a very beautiful woman, Rina, men and boys will start vying for your affections. You must not give it to them. You have a duty to Dorne that you are luckily escaping for now."

"Of course, father," Amirina nodded, knowing that was fairly simple. Although, it was a bit difficult. She rather liked the Northern men, much more than Dornish men.

"Next, you must always be dutiful, loyal, kind, honorable, and respectful. I have raised you to where you already seamlessly showcase these, but I want you to always know this. You must never falter in your display of such attributes."

That was fairly easy as well.

"And lastly," Oberyn sighed, "you must write me as quickly and often as you find possible. If you wish to leave, I will arrange for it to occur. If you wish to stay longer, I will do my best to ensure you do. But please, my dear dear Amirina," he placed his hands on her cheeks and looked into her eyes (ones that painfully reminded him of his wife's own), "never forget who you are in this world. You have Stark blood, yes, but you are no wolf. You are a Martell, a Viper. You bend the knee to none but your own. You have no king, for Dorne does not have kings. You are Amirina Martell, first of her name, daughter of Stark and Martell, princess in Dorne, and you are a Viper."

Her father then gave her a bone-crushing hug, something he rarely did. He only committed such actions when he knew he would not see her for a while. She knew what the speech meant.

"When do you leave?" she asked quietly, her arms wrapped around her father's midsection.

He stroked her hair, "At the break of dawn."

Amirina breathed in deeply, knowing this would be the last time she saw her father for quite a while. It was a sacrifice for both of them. Him: losing his daughter for time so she may escape betrothals she wished not to take part in. And her: losing time with her father when he was usually all she had. It was an exciting experience for her; she would be on her own…almost. However, she rarely went long periods without Oberyn Martell. She was all he had left and he was the only one who truly raised her. Yes, Uncle Doran helped quite a bit, but he did not show the same form of love as her father showered her with. It would never be the same.

She then pulled away and smiled sadly, "Then let us spend the rest of the day together! We shall dine in my room and we shall laugh and tell stories and spend time with only one another. I believe that is fair for a daughter to request of her father?"

Oberyn smiled then and hugged his daughter once more, "Yes, my dear Rina. That is more than fair."

And so, they did as she requested. They read stories and talked beyond belief. They ate loudly and laughed joyfully. And well into the life of the moon, they spoke (never of her mother though). And Amirina fell soundly asleep earlier than she wished, but Oberyn stayed with her until he knew she was far gone.

He placed a kiss upon her forehead and stroked her dark and wild head of hair. He then pulled her furs up to cover her completely, despite her having stayed in her clothing from the day. He knew she was far more susceptible to the cold and required more furs in the evenings.

Oberyn Martell smiled down on his daughter. "You will never want to leave here, I know it to be true. You will find love here and I hope you do, my dear. Katerina left Winterfell for Dorne, and you will leave Dorne for Winterfell," he said quietly, rubbing his thumb upon his daughter's temple. "You have grown and surpassed my expectations. You have become what your mother would have wanted and more. One day, Amirina. One day, I will tell you everything. For now, love, make mistakes, spar, grow some more, laugh, create friendships. This is your time for such. For once that time is up, my flower, you will be forced into life with a hard shove. I can sense it in my gut. Times are changing, I just do not know when and how, and I wish I could protect you from such. But, take this serenity to grow. You will appreciate it."

He then sighed and placed one final kiss upon her daughter's forehead.

"I love you, my dear Amirina. Remain unbowed, unbent, and unbroken, for I can tell that winter is coming."

And with that, Oberyn Martell left.

* * *

Jon Snow sat alone in the kitchens, a bowl of porridge and some bread sat untouched in front of him. Gage, the head cook, was kind to Jon and took pity upon the bastard son of Ned Stark. He often set out hot meals for the dark-haired boy, giving him more than he often should. Today, Gage had caught cold and had left Turnip, his son, in charge of making Jon's meal for the breaking of his fast. Turnip was young, however, and could only make a decent bowl of porridge and some warm bread. Jon was thankful though, he really appreciated all that people did for him. He hated the pity though.

The looks people gave him. Whether they be sorry, pitiful, judgmental, or hateful, he hated all of them. The last two were for obvious reasons. However, the first two were awful to Jon, sometimes more so than the latter two. He just…he couldn't stand people's pity and need to feel sorry for him. He was a bastard, yes, he couldn't change that. He already had to deal with Lady Catelyn's constant hate for him. Constant hate for something that was not his fault, yet he endured the consequences anyways. He had to learn to deal with it. And people did too.

There were a few handful of people who were kind though, and not because they felt pity. Robb, Arya, Ned, Uncle Benjen when he could visit, Uncle Oberyn, and his cousin Amirina. The first four were Starks, through and through. The last two? They were Martells, connected only by Katerina Stark, Jon's dead aunt. She was Amirina's mother and Oberyn's wife. Jon found out that she had died when Amirina was just a babe during the rebellion. His father never explained to him how, but he had told him it happened. And it was that event that caused a friendship to build between the two cousins.

Jon had never met his mother. He didn't even know who she was. Was she a whore? A common woman? A fair lady? Was she dead? Alive? Where was she? Who was she? He knew not the answers. He just knew she had given birth to him during the rebellion and he had come to Winterfell as a bane to Lady Catelyn after his father returned from the war. That was all he knew.

Amirina was almost the same, however, her father was more open. She would tell Jon of times that Oberyn would be so drunk off of Dornish wine that he would spill details of his late wife to her. And sometimes he would willingly give up brief and cursory points of her mother. He knew that Amirina was frustrated because of it. Jon could not blame her. He'd rather know nothing than only tiny sparing bits. They bonded over the lack of mothers in their lives and never truly knowing who they were. And Amirina cared not if Jon was a bastard, which he found comforting. And she did not care just for the reason of pitying him, but because in Dorne, bastards were treated as legitimate children. It was something that he wished he could experience, even for just a day.

He rather liked his cousin. She was witty, strong, smart, and kind. She was the friend he so desperately craved and needed. And he liked to think that he was the same to her.

Giving a small chuckle, Jon took a spoonful of his breakfast, swallowing slowly. He knew Robb and Theon were practically obsessed with Rina, and he found it humorous. It was weird to Jon that Robb liked Amirina as much as he did. They were cousins. And to Jon…that just didn't seem right. They were blood. But he knew his brother would wake to his senses and find a lady that was not blood that he liked and could chase after. Theon, on the other hand, was not Amirina's blood, and Jon knew the Greyjoy enjoyed every moment of Rina turning around and away from him. It would be all he spoke about for an entire day, especially if she managed to not piss him off (which was rare). Jon could admit that his cousin was quite pretty, but she was his cousin and his friend, and he really was not able to create a different light of her. It was far too weird for him.

Weirded out by his own thoughts, Jon gave a shiver. He directed his mind to someplace else but was interrupted by the very person that held his attention previously.

Amirina had run into the sitting area in the kitchens, her usually done up hair a disheveled mess. Her oak eyes were red and puffy from obviously spending some time in hysterics, and a slight rosiness to her cheeks gave her away even more.

Jon had seen his older cousin cry before, not often, but it had occurred. When they were younger, it was for silly reasons that she would not cry over now. She was almost a woman now. Well, technically she was a woman because Jon assumed that…well, he knew that her age was nearing womanhood. A little over a year and she would be ten and eight. That reminded him that her nameday of ten and seven was coming up in a couple of moons. He made a mental note to try and figure out a gift that could potentially take the months until her name day to create or find.

"My father," she said, her voice cracking slightly, "he just left without a goodbye."

Jon sighed and motioned for his cousin and friend to sit by him. She meekly walked over and sat on the bench, her head leaned against his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her shoulders. "I'm sure he had reason to, Rina. He also must have thought he spoke a proper goodbye yesterday," he reasoned, comfortable around Rina.

Jon was not like Theon or Robb. He could not get girls to swoon at the mere sight of him, much less talk to him. He was more oft than not nervous and stuttered like a child around those of the opposite sex. But with Rina, despite her looks and supposed charm, Jon felt completely at ease with her. Perhaps it was because he viewed her solely in a cousin/brotherly way, that he just could not become nervous around her. He just felt like…a wanted brother.

Amirina sniffled lightly and hugged herself, "He said goodbye not once last eve. He told me I could see him off this morn but he seemed to glance over the fact that he needed to wake me!"

"You are a fairly heavy sleeper, Rina," Jon joked slightly, knowing the best way to comfort his cousin would be to get her to laugh.

She gave a gasp and lifted her head from his shoulder. Amirina gave a look of hurt then, "I sleep like a bird, if you don't mind. Father simply did not wake me up. He did not care enough to." Her mood then swung severely left and she laid her head back upon Jon's shoulder.

Jon sighed and rubbed her bicep, hoping it would bring some form of comfort. "He must have believed he would be unable to leave without you if you saw him off this dawn," he rationalized, realizing that Amirina was still here and her father was off on his way to Dorne. "Rina, why are you still here?"

"I doubt it," she rolled her eyes, secretly hoping Jon was right. She then chuckled and realized that no one knew she was staying in Winterfell. "Your father wished for my presence to be extended, and similarly, Bran did as well. So, here I am."

Jon smiled then and gave her shoulders a squeeze, "Well, I am glad. It is good to have you lighting up and warming the halls of Winterfell, dear cousin."

Rina genuinely smiled at that and gave Jon a hug from the side. "That was sweet Jon Snow, I appreciate it greatly," she said softly.

"Of course, Rina. Anything for a friend and sister," he teased the last part, knowing it made her blush.

She gave a light smack to his chest and giggled, "I'm not actually your sister, Jon! Though it is another sweet compliment, it is not true."

"Why not? The girls and boys already believe you to be an older sister. Why not be referred to as such?"

"Because I am a Martell and your cousin," she defended, a slight tint of pink dusting across her freckles cheeks.

Jon smiled, a rare event. He never truly smiled when Rina wasn't here. Arya would give him some smiles, and so would Robb. And Bran and Rickon would sometimes contribute as well. But, such a thing was difficult for him to muster up. Rina though? She made him feel wanted. She made him feel like a true member of the family. She gave him reason to smile.

"Would you like to join me in the Godswood?" he offered, knowing she would not deny an offer to be in the quiet.

She nodded and stood first, stepping over the bench and waiting for him. He motioned for her to wait, taking his bowl and the bread to one of the cooks, motioning for them to finish it. It was a young boy, probably one of the handmaiden's sons. He was skinny and obviously wanted for a hot meal as his dark eyes stared hungrily at the bowl. The boy nodded in thanks and began to run into the back, hopefully to eat undisturbed.

Jon then joined his cousin and they began their journey.

"That boy was small," Rina noted, a questioning look in her eyes.

Jon nodded, a sad sigh escaping him, "Aye, too small. My father takes good care of every single member of the house, but he can't take care of everyone."

"That's how it is in Dorne. Uncle Doran is kinda and gentle to every servant there is. But outside of Sunspear? It gets harder and harder. Better than King's Landing by leagues of course, but still rough. No one starves but…people have trouble," she explained, looking ahead.

Jon looked over at her, "How often do you travel outside of Sunspear?"

"Every fortnight or so," she thought for a moment, "only for a day or two. I have duties I have to attend to of course, but I try to do as much for the people as I can."

"You are a kind person, cousin," Jon commended, not knowing that small fact about the Martell, "far better than most."

She shook her head, "I care more than most. I am not better."

Jon rolled his eyes then and slightly nudged the Martell.

"You are older than I, yet you act like a child," Jon teased lightly, pushing his black curls back.

"I am no child, Jon Snow."

"Alright, _princess_ ," he mocked slightly, knowing the nickname annoyed her. He did not know why it did, but it did and that was simply it. She didn't explain it and he didn't want her to. Not unless she willingly told him of it.

Amirina rolled her eyes and the two continued walking in silence. It was a comfortable silence, not one that was forced or aggravated. It was just the two enjoying one another's company. They walked the halls and grounds of Winterfell, together but apart. They enjoyed the small space between their bodies and knew it was comfortable more so for them to be as such. Well, Jon liked it that way. He should have probably offered his cousin his arm or his cloak, but he thought that if Lady Catelyn or Sansa saw them, they would assume things. In reality, that would not be the case, as the two girls knew it simply wasn't true.

But Amirina stole glances at her oblivious cousin. His dark grey eyes unable to catch her looks of admiration and contentment. And the slightest glint of attraction. However, it was minuscule and was due to Jon's well-aging looks. That was simply it. She really did not care if he was her cousin or not, she had to admit that he was becoming quite handsome. Yet, Jon knew not of this. And he also did not know how desperately Amirina wished more men were like him.

Jon breathed in the crisp and chilled air of Winterfell, enjoying the cold. He loved the cold. He was not sure as to why he did, but he just…he just did. It was fresh and, while not always kind, it was exhilarating sometimes. He could be going on a hunt with the men of the house and just purely enjoy the cold wind harshly whipping his face and his dark curls. It made him feel alive and it was…he wanted to laugh at himself for how in love he was with the cold.

"What are you laughing at, Snow?" he heard his cousin ask, a cocked and dark eyebrow from her.

He realized then that he had indeed laughed at himself. "Just thinkin' about the cold and how much I find myself enjoying it," he explained, not the slightest bit embarrassed.

"Hmm," she mused, then shook her head, "love the cold all you will like. I rather detest it. I love my sun and warmth and ability to swim as I please. And the less amount of layers is quite the bonus."

" _Less_ layers?" Jon asked, purely innocent as he was.

She gave a sharp laugh, patting a hand upon her cousin's back. "Oh, dear Jon, you would faint at the sight of Dornish women."

"And why is that?" he asked, still not understanding it. Were they just that unattractive?

"They barely wear anything."

Jon then felt his cheeks burn up at the thought of women wearing less clothing. Did they not wear full dresses? Or did they simply wear nothing?

"Now," she joked, poking his cheek, "I see that blush. Do not imagine women naked, if you know what that looks like. In Dorne, we wear georgette fabrics. We do not wear furs or silks or cotton. It is too hot for those. So women wear, if high enough status, a sheer fabric and sometimes silk underneath, but that is rare."

"So, see-through fabrics?" he partially understood.

"Correct, Snow!" she gave a laugh and gave him a quick hug from the side. "Look at you, young wolf, growing up."

"Women just willingly expose their bodies?" he asked, genuinely confused. Why would they want to do that?

Amirina nodded then, her eyes trained on the archways to the Godswood. "Yes. In Dorne, we do not believe in perversion really. We believe that every body is beautiful, no matter what. And women such as I, only wear such fabrics when necessary. I enjoy my leathers and solid fabrics, such as what I wear to spar. My cousin, Arianne, however, she…" Jon waited for her to elaborate, "let us say that she enjoys to wear barely any fabrics at all."

"Is she a whore?" Jon asked quizzically.

Amirina barked a laugh and shook her head. "By the old and new, no. However, she takes enough men to bed that she would be considered one here," she explained, clear distaste for her older cousin in her voice.

"I'm not fond of Arianne Martell. She and I…we do not speak to one another," she explained after seeing Jon's look of curiosity.

"May I ask why?"

Amirina sighed as the two entered the snow covered Godswood, the trees hanging high above them. Jon noticed that a few leaves still clung onto the snow-laden branches.

Snow crunched lightly under them as he listened to his cousin. "Arianne is heir to Sunspear. She does not deserve such a position though. That woman believes that sleeping every man available to get what she wants is how to gain power. She is a fool and Uncle Doran turns a blind eye to it. And what is worse," she paused before shuddering and not from the cold, "she…she rather _likes_ my father."

Jon's eyes widened and he slight felt nauseous. It was like him finding Amirina's mother attractive.

"H-how did you learn of that?" he asked, slightly scared of the answer.

"She talks quite a bit in her sleep," she answered curtly.

Jon left it at that, uncomfortable with the conversation. It was weird and unnerving to him. How could one find their relatives attractive? He had to guess that Robb's fascination with Amirina was stemmed purely from her features. He had gone over that before. But an uncle or an aunt? Jon thought that disgusting, and he wasn't afraid of confessing that should he need to.

The two approached the heart tree: a tall weirwood with the face carved into its white trunk. No matter rain, wind, snow, hail, the red leaves seemed to always remain. But Jon knew that to be false, as the tree's five-pointed blood red leaves fell every year. To him, they were just always there. And then there was the small pond the tree loomed over. A thin layer of ice covered the water's surface, the weather not being cool enough to freeze completely. But Jon believed that it had not been cold enough for a while.

He watched his cousin go to the trunk and kneel. Her eyes closed and a silent prayer whispered upon her lips. The strange thing about the Martell girl was that she worshipped the gods of old. He never knew why but she had explained that she could not believe the gods of the Rhoynar. And she apparently did not believe in the gods of new (the faith of the Seven). Perhaps it was her father's lack of faith and her frequent trips to Winterfell, that she eventually just caved. For whatever reason, Jon had a form of appreciation for it.

He kneeled down next to her, dipping his head and thinking of a prayer for her father. He wished the gods bless him with a safe and swift trip and a warm bed and food to await him. It was all he could really hope for for his uncle. Oberyn treated him well, but they rarely spoke to one another. He then said a prayer for Amirina, hoping that she would be happy and that she would never feel lonely. And that she lived long and never failed in health. She was his best friend and his cousin, he would always wish for her to be there.

He lifted his head and looked over at the still dipped head of Rina, his eyes trailing her sad feautures. Her hair was still quite a mess, the curls wild and slightly frizzy. Her usually lightly tanned skin was a bit pale today, and her cheeks held a rosiness from the cold or from her crying earlier (he did not know which). Her dress was the same from yesterday, he mentally noted. He would have to convince her to change later. Slight bags and dark circles rested under her currently closed eyes. And he swore he heard a slight rumble from her stomach, but he wasn't sure. In all honesty, Jon thought she looked exhausted.

"You may stop staring at me now, Jon," she said, opening her left eye to peek at him. The oak brown (which was darkening by the days) held a glint of amusement.

"My apologies, Rina," he said sincerely, "I just couldn't help but notice how purely exhausted you look."

She sighed and shifted so she may sit upon one of the roots and face the pond. "For a couple of nights, I have had to think of correct ways to address the betrothal situations my uncle has sent me. That, and the fact that papa left without a goodbye has worn me out incredibly," she confessed, her dark eyes staring out across the Godswood.

Jon copied her actions, sitting next to her now and staring as well. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders once again. She would do this to him often when he felt down or needed someone to offer comfort. And because of that, he would drop everything to do the same for her.

"You must not lose sleep over this, Rina, it is not healthy," he reasoned, knowing her stubborn will would argue.

But instead, she just nodded, "I know, Snow, I know. I just…I need time. And, hopefully, my extension here has given me some of that."

"Everything will be well, dear cousin."

"I truly hope it will be."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _Ahh, longest chapter yet (which the doc manager hates me for)! Alright, I really enjoyed this chapter. We got some insight on Katerina, some father-daughter time, aaaaaand! Some Jon and Rina friendship fluff. Now, you might think Jon is a little too comfortable around her, but worry not, flashbacks of their childhood and how they became practically BFFs will be revealed in due time. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Thank you so much for reading, and taking your time to review or favorite or follow! It means the world to me! If you mints would love to see something specific, as we have a pretty free timeline for about a year, then just PM me and I will do my best to incorporate it! Love you all!_

 _~P_

 _ **Arianna Le Fay:** Haha yes! And yes, it would appear so. I rather like both men (I mean who doesn't) but who knows who the love interest will be, but that idea is very intriguing! And sadly, no she will not be getting one. The direwolves are purely for the Stark children. It's a cliche that I'm not a fan of (when done poorly), and Amirina is a Martell first and foremost. I don't think a Martell should get a direwolf. But great question! And thank you for the support!_

 _ **sillychick13** : Thank you my dear! I truly appreciate it! And I hope you will continue reading along!_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N** : _So sorry for the delay my loves. Life kind of crept up on me and y'all wouldn't understand the writer's block that slammed me for this chapter. I had half of it done but wasn't sure where else to take it. But I finally have it done for you my loves. I added a bit of memories, some Robb/Amirina fluff (for those shippers) and some Jon/Amirina fluff (for those shippers). Mainly friendship fluff rn, as no one will be in a relationship no matter the pairing for some time. This isn't going to be a "fall in love in five chapters" kind of story. I will reveal memories that help to push forward such things though._

 _Would you guys rather see a couple of events in a chapter or time skips within one chapter. Let me know! It will help a lot with time spent writing._

 _Also, any ship names? I'd love to hear them!_

 _Thank you all so much for your patience and the love you have all showed to this story! Sorry for the long note. There is another concerning the chapter at the end with responses. Hope y'all enjoy!_

 _Season 7 is ending! :'(((_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own GOT obviously_

* * *

" _My name is Princess Amirina Martell," the small girl said, a bit of a pretentious tone plaguing the young voice. "What is your's?"_

 _The boy across from her was small, smaller than she. He had unruly dark curls, nearly passing for black. And he had these timid dark grey eyes, and they reminded young Amirina of being almost black as well._

 _"Jon," he answered quietly, his eyes now pointed downwards._

 _"Jon what?" Amirina asked, an exasperated tone in her voice. She shouldn't have been as such. She was only eight._

 _He kicked his foot a little bit, twisting slightly, and locking his hands behind his back. Jon, whoever he was, simply stayed lip locked with silence and refused to answer her it would seem. Amirina did not like that. She was a princess! Princess of Dorne! No one could refuse her._

 _The wild curls of the tanned girl shifted with a gust of chilly wind, stopping whatever thoughts or plans she had. She immediately wanted for a coat and her father. Her father was Oberyn Martell, the fastest fighter in all of Westeros. Amirina knew he was somewhere in the great and quiet keep of Winterfell, she just didn't know where. Perhaps she should not have scurried off somewhere, she thought lightly. Her father would not be too angry with her, but he would give her a scolding she dreaded._

 _In her midst of thoughts, the boy had managed to notice her cold and give her his small cloak. He stuck it out in his hand, not looking at her. Amirina had finally started paying attention and realized the black coat hanging from his tightly clenched hand. She raised a thin eyebrow and took it without much care. All the girl knew was that she was cold and a cloak meant warmth._

 _She pulled it over her shoulders and clipped it, enjoying the warmth her body automatically welcomed with open arms. Rina sighed in contentment and wriggled slightly in the dark fur. Her hazel eyes then locked on the boy, Jon, as he started pulling away again. She did not care for such an action and grabbed his hand to stop him. "Thank you, Jon," she said, her childish voice emanating in the slightly open area._

 _Where they were must have been close to the stables, as it smelled of hay and dung, forcing Rina to wrinkle her nose every so often. There was clatter from people out in the open, the sound of metal being hit with a hammer, the sound of hushed whispers and hurried conversations. It seemed as though the area was a common one, a popular one really. The hazel eyes of Amirina trailed the moving and conversing figures that passed them regularly._

 _"Snow," the boy responded, causing the girl to look up. "My name is Jon Snow."_

 _Amirina's eyes lit up at the recognition, surprisingly delighted and proud (as she remembered the bastard names of Westerosi regions)._

 _She smiled, "You're a bastard!"_

 _Jon shrunk away then, obviously only knowing the negative connotation of the term. However, Amirina did not understand why being a bastard was so horrible. In Dorne, bastards were welcomed! She had bastard sisters. Obara was her oldest bastard sister, and she was twenty years old now. She had five other half sisters: Nymeria, Tyene, Sarella, Elia, and Obella. Nymeria and Tyene were older like Obara, but Sarella, Elia, and Obella were younger. Amirina did not get along too well with her sisters, but she was nice to them. Very nice. Her father said it was because of who her mother was. And her mother was not someone she knew a lot about._

 _Amirina smiled and grabbed the boy's hand, holding on tightly enough to where she could pull him out of himself. "I have six bastard sisters!" she exclaimed proudly, not caring about the connotations that 'bastard' held in the North. "There's Obara, Nymeria, Tyene, Sarella, Elia, and Obella! The first three are all older and fight like my father. But then my younger sisters do not fight, father says they are not old enough," she explained pulling the boy to a hay bale so they could sit and talk._

 _"And what does your mama say about them?" Jon asked innocently, his dark eyes shining curiously._

 _Amirina shook her head as she jumped upon the dry grass of the bale. "My mama is gone. Father said that she died when I was a babe," she explained, lending a hand down to help the boy up. "He said that she would not like the girls. She knew about my older sisters and she did not fully care for them but she treated them as her own. I think she would have liked them all._

 _"Does your mama treat you like her own?" Amirina was a curious young thing and wished for answers that she usually should not seek._

 _Jon shook his sad dark curls and clenched tightly onto the bale. "I call her Lady Catelyn. She's not my mama. Papa won't tell me who my mama is or where she is. All I know is that it isn't Lady Catelyn," he explained maturely, confusing Amirina. Wasn't he a bastard?_

 _"How come you speak well?"_

 _"Because I listen all the time," he turned to look at her, his seven-year-old features soft and baby-like but holding a look of sadness and loneliness._

 _Amirina gave a small giggle to try and lighten the boy's mood. "Well," she smiled, "I will make sure you fail to listen!"_

 _She placed her hands on her hips then, the Dornish fabric rubbing softly upon her skin. Rina gave a bright smile, despite the gaps her baby teeth held. The fat of being a child still held onto her cheeks and freckles scattered mindlessly morphed and molded to fit the shape of the widening cheeks. Bright and innocent hazel eyes shined with friendship at the lonely boy. Unruly dark curls shifted without care with the wind. The child of Oberyn and Katerina was that of kindness and compassion. Something that both scared and enticed the young seven year old boy next to her._

 _"What?" was all the boy could manage._

 _Rina gave a puff of humor and shook her head, before taking the boy's hand. "I, Princess Amirina Martell, hereby declare to be your, Jon Snow, best friend from this day until you eat my lemon cakes."_

 _Jon managed to laugh at this, his childish giggle a good sign for the Martell child. "I agree to such terms," he played along, slowly coming out of his shell._

 _It had been a few weeks since their first meeting, and the two instantly bonded. They had spent nearly every day with one another, varying in times of course. One day they may only be able to say a few words. Other days they quite literally spent the whole day with each other. Amirina often fell asleep in her bed, Jon sprawled out in the furs as well. It was a relationship Catelyn Stark did not agree with but she never spoke of it due to Ned's and Oberyn's wishes. The children knew not of this, however. It would not be fair to them should they have learned of it at such a young age._

 _The day had started out rather unusually for the duo. Ned had failed to bring Jon back to his own room, and admittedly had been…occupied the night before. So Jon had laid uninterrupted in Rina's bed, his limbs sprawled out in all sorts of manners. Rina lay calmly, her body curled within itself to keep warm in the chilly room. Despite the long summer having still reigned dominant, the air was still cool in Winterfell. It was a temperature and climate that was hard for Amirina to acclimate to._

 _A yawn and stretch from the young girl caused a stirring in Jon. He was roused from his sleep due to it and gave a groan of discontent._

 _"Could ya be any louder, Ri?" he asked, his body slowly contracting and stretching to relieve the tensity in his sleepy muscles._

 _Rina was not yet fully awake and gave a 'huh?' in response, cuddling closer into the furs._

 _The young bastard pushed his small body up and looked over at his half-cousin, a tired glaze still crusting over his eyes. Pulling his legs beneath him, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Jon's rambunctious curls shifted slightly, covering his forehead generously. "I said you're too loud Ri," he clarified, sitting on his rear now and stretching his legs out._

 _"A…princess…" she paused to yawn, "is not…loud."_

 _Jon gave a childish bark of laughter and crawled over to his companion. "Sure ya are, Rina! You're as loud as the colts in the stables!" he joked, nudging Amirina's shoulder so he could stir her from sleep. He was awake now and once a child was awake, they wanted to play. Well…most of the time._

 _"You are the one that's loud," she mumbled, pulling her pillow over her head, trying her best to ignore the movements of her cousin._

 _Jon rolled his dark grey eyes and flopped down upon the bed, laying next to his older cousin. She wasn't much older than he, as he had found out earlier. Barely two namedays in fact. Some times, she was only one nameday older! He found it interesting beyond belief and thought higher of himself. He also thought her to be pretty._

 _"Come on, Amirinaaaa," he drawled out, sprawling his arms out and intentionally laying his left arm across her body._

 _A muffled 'no' came from the Martell girl, her hands grasping tighter upon the pillow._

 _Jon gave a huff and pout, pulling his arms in and crossing them across his chest. The bastard boy was not happy with his cousin. He wanted to play and have fun today, and Amirina was too lazy to rise from bed._

 _"Ri," Jon began, his young voice annoyed, "get up so we can play!"_

 _Amirina shook her head underneath her pillow, giving a muffle slur of words Jon couldn't wrap his mind around. He wondered and pondered what he could do to get her to play with him. He couldn't sit on her, he wasn't heavy enough. He couldn't tickle her, despite her ticklish body, she'd refuse to play with him. Food however…_

 _Jon smiled as the idea warped into his mind, causing him to sit up and lean back on his feet._

 _"I'll eat your lemon cakesssss," he said in a sing-song voice._

 _That aroused Amirina from her position and caused her to fling up and attack Jon. A playful attack but an attack nonetheless. He gave an oof of surprise as his cousin pinned him to the bed, her oak brown eyes staring hard at him with a childish glint of threatening playfulness incorporated into them._

 _"We made a deal, Jonny!" she barked, a faux angry tone in her voice, betrayed almost. "We could be friends as long as ya didn't eat my lemon cakes!"_

 _Jon laughed then, his childish glee apparent. "No deal, Rina! I'll eat all of 'em!" He then wriggled from underneath her and rolled from her bed, taking off into a sprint from her room, running to the kitchen so he may eat Amirina's morning cakes._

 _The last he heard was a simple, "You'll pay for this Jon!"_

* * *

Jon smiled then. He remembered the fond memories of he and Amirina from his childhood quite vividly. His cousin had been a source of light despite everything that ever went on behind the keep's walls. He loved his cousin dearly for helping bring light into the almost dreary castle. He loved her for being a sister to him when he needed one. He loved her for being her around him. His cousin had become his best friend and a sister. He could never care to ask for more than for her to stay forever, so that Jon (despite his inability to admit it) might be able to have his best friend with him all of the time.

"Thinkin' of a woman, are ya, Snow?" the annoying voice of Thrones Greyjoy threw Jon for a spin. He shook his head and realized that he couldn't spend his day dreaming of the simpler past.

Jon rolled his eyes at the ever-perverted kraken and continued walking. The two of them, plus Robb (who was gods knew where), had been sent by Lady Catelyn to go fetch some things from the market in Winter Town. Jon didn't mind doing so. Amirina was busy this day with taking care of Bran, and Rickon. Sansa and Arya were at their lessons with their septa. Admittedly, Jon had been disappointed he could not have time with his cousin. He had been planning to spar with her, but the gods would not allow it today. He guessed he would just set it for another day.

"Who is she?" Theon persisted despite Jon's annoyed silence.

Jon decided to entertain the Greyjoy, simply so he would shut up. "I'm thinking of no one, Greyjoy," he said, a tone of finality lacing his voice.

Theon scoffed, "Ah yes, I forgot your prick doesn't twitch at the thought of women because you're a Snow."

Jon clenched his fists and felt his nostrils flare slightly. He had to calm down, he knew that much. Theon was just trying to get a rise out of him.

"You want to know who can make my prick go right on up?" Theon asked, a teasing to his voice.

Jon really did not want to know, but he could not ignore the man, "Ros?"

Theon barked with laughter and patted the Snow on his left shoulder. "Oh gods, she can too. No, I'm thinking a more…exotic beauty," he laughed out, a certain lustful tone underlying his voice.

Exotic. It was that word that cued Jon in to who he was talking about.

"You know too don't you, Snow? Those long dark curls, that damned near caramel skin. And gods, that body…"

Theon didn't get to finish before Jon turned on him. "You will not speak of my cousin as such," he warned, a deadly tone in his voice. "She is a Princess of Dorne, and it does not matter if she is here or not, you will not speak of her."

Theon cocked an eyebrow and chuckled, as if it was all a joke to him. "What? You want her for your own Snow?"

Jon shook his head in disgust, and spoke, "Gods no. She is my cousin. But I know that you should not speak of her like that, lest you wish for her father to hear about this."

Yet still, Theon was laughing.

"What could possibly still crack you up, Greyjoy?" he questioned, confusion sweeping over him.

The kraken placed a hand on Jon's shoulder and turned him around. Unwillingly, he turned, curious as to what Theon was laughing at. And the sight he saw…he was shocked but expectant of it.

Amirina stood there, helping and laughing with Bran and Rickon. Jon smiled at that image but frowned at what else was occurring. Robb stood to Rina's left and stared at her. And he didn't stare at her as if she was crazy or laughing or being kind. He was staring at her with a fascination that ignited his Tully-blue eyes. A fascination that no man should have for his cousin.

"Your brother does not seem to think such an idea is wrong. Hells, your grandfather married his cousin. Siblings? That's out of the picture. But cousins? That is…that's fun," Theon joked, an undertone of malevolent intent in his grimy voice.

Jon scoffed and ripped his shoulder from Theon's grasp. "My brother just finds her beautiful. He will get over such a fascination," he stated, hoping in his heart that such a thing would occur but knowing in his mind that it probably would never come to pass. Robb Stark was too intrigued by Amirina.

"Jealous, Snow?"

"Not even a bit," Jon defended, ignoring the slight gnaw of the green monster at his heart. Robb always had everything. For once, Jon had someone. For once, someone paid attention to him. He would not lose yet another person to Robb. "Let us just do what Lady Catelyn requested."

* * *

Robb couldn't help it. He knew there was a depth of wrong to his wants. He knew how her beauty surpassed anyone he had ever seen before. He knew she was his late aunt'a daughter. He knew she was kind and full of heart. He knew she was his first and only cousin. He knew she glowed with a light that no one could ever recreate. He knew that his "crush" would be frowned upon by his honorable family. But Robb Stark couldn't help it.

He had run into her at the marketplace. His mother had sent him, Jon, and Theon to go grab some things. Robb couldn't even remember what he was there for. He had gone ahead of Jon and Theon so he could grab something for Amirina's nameday, which was in three moons. It was a bit of a time away, but he found it necessary to get her her gift now than to wait until he might get back into Winter Town.

Sansa had given him the idea on what to get their cousin, wishing for him to make it partially from her. He agreed and she gave him the idea. Sansa had suggested a brooch, of which Amirina had many. But she had the idea of mixing Amirina's houses: Martell and Stark. She had a multitude of the separate brooches. But she didn't have a combined brooch.

Robb was not good with designs, so he had Sansa sketch an idea. The sun's rays would be the outside of the pin, with a snarling wolf head in the center of it, and a spear going from the top to bottom. Robb thought it looked good and rather admired it. So, to ensure his brother and friend would not realize his plan, he rode a bit ahead with the casual, "I'd rather get this over with now". It had worked and he rode ahead, able to get to the jeweler's stand. The old woman had looked at it and simply nodded in approval, leaving with nothing but a time length. She had said it could take a fortnight if he wanted it to turn out well-crafted. He accepted the time length and handed the woman three gold dragons (a good offer for something so small). She had widened her eyes and thanked him before he left.

Robb had walked a bit, grabbing some simple foods, such as apples, grains, oats (for the horses). He had forgotten what else he was to grab and was about to find his half-brother and Theon, but had caught sight of his cousin and two youngest siblings. He had been surprised to see them but found himself drawn over to the trio.

And that was where he was now, admiring Amirina.

She had told him that the boys were getting rowdy and wished to go outside of the keep. So Rina had taken them to Winter Town's market to try and get them to settle down a bit. However, much to her chagrin, they seemed to be doing the opposite.

"They're far too energetic for my tastes," she joked, stirring Robb from his thoughts.

He chuckled a bit and reached down to Bran, picking the small boy up. Despite his age, Bran was light and small enough for the Stark heir to carry him comfortably. There was an 8 year age difference as well, so it worked out well.

"Are you giving Amirina trouble?" he gave a fake scolding, a smile on his face.

Bran only laughed and shook his head, "Of course not! Rickon is the one doing so!"

Little Rickon, who was only three name days old, shook his head vigorously and tugged on Amirina's skirts. "Bran's lying, Ri!"

Giving an 'awe', Amirina grabbed her youngest cousin and picked him up, cradling him to her body. "My poor pup," she started, nuzzling Rickon with her nose, tickling him lightly, "you poor poor thing. You're both causing me problems!" She gave a laugh as their faces dropped.

"I'm inclined to believe our cousin, dear brother," Robb mock-whispered.

Bran looked betrayed at Robb's confession, pushing away from him. This caused for the older Stark to laugh and hug his brother closer.

"Come now Bran," Amirina stepped closer to Robb, "you've never been a good liar."

Robb ignored what his younger brother said because he simply stared at Rina. She had a kindness to her and a heart that he had never seen before. She cared not if one was a bastard or trueborn. She cared not if you were ugly or handsome. She cared not if you were prim and proper, or if you were gritty and dirty. She only cared if you were a good person and if you had a good heart. And that made Amirina prettier than Robb already thought. He knew she was older than him. He knew he was only ten and five. He knew she was his cousin. But he knew that he liked her, and he liked her quite a bit.

"Robb!"

The boy in question shook his head and turned to see Theon and Jon walking over to them, the latter with a sour look on his face. Robb wondered what Theon had said to cause such a thing. He'd have to ask his half-brother later.

"Hello to you too, Rina," Theon said, a lustful tone to his voice and his Greyjoy eyes sweeping over her figure, lingering slightly on her chest and waist.

"Theon," Amirina nodded, pushing Rickon against her chest, as to cover it up with the child.

Theon chuckled and turned his attention to Robb then, who was currently fuming on the inside. Yes, he rather fancied the girl, but she was stil his cousin and he did not appreciate his best friend looking over her like a pig on a spit.

"So what is it you were doing that you so desperately wanted over?" Theon asked, a suggestive glance between the two.

"I grabbed the food for the horses," Robb stated, being slightly truthful. He wouldn't say the other part. "I managed to run into our cousin after doing so."

"Of course," Theon nodded, obvious sarcasm in his voice.

Robb rolled his eyes as Amirina gave him a questioning glance, as if asking why Theon would imply such a thing. He just shook his head at her and smiled as if to ignore it. She then nodded lightly and turned her head to Jon, who stood silent behind Theon, the same sombre and annoyed look upon his features. He watched as Rina's eyebrows melted into worry and a sadness entered her darkening brown eyes. Her grip loosened on Rickon just enough and he saw her want to step towards Jon and ask what was wrong and how could she help. But she didn't. Not in public. She knew people would whisper and if it got to Catelyn, Jon would pay for it. So she held back and it hurt Robb to see as such. She was such a kind person and would help no matter what, but knew that not helping would help Jon right now.

To allow for her to do as she wished, Robb gathered their attention, "Let's go back, yes? The sun is setting and it is getting quite late. Mother would not be happy if we stayed longer."

The four of them nodded, appreciating the break in silence. Rickon gave a yawn and Amirina smiled at the young boy. And Robb couldn't help it. He watched the way her lips stretched ever so slightly to create a closed smile. He watched the way her eyes glinted with love for her young cousin. He watched the way she frowned, as if she wanted children of her own. And that…he found that part sad. Amarina would be ten and seven in three moons. Most girls her age were already married with two children and sometimes a third on the way. Yet, she had neither and Robb knew that despite her warrior armor, the heart inside of her craved that kind of life.

Perhaps Robb was too mature for his age. Most ten and five boys would be off chasing maidens and wanting to be a knight or not wanting a substantial relationship. But Robb wanted not for those material and short-term things. He wanted a wife. Not yet of course, but maybe in a year or two. He wanted a family of his own. But he knew that his father's image drove him to want for such dreams. He wanted to be like his father, and he would one day, have to be. He would become Warden of the North, and for some reason, he thought himself ready for such a thing. But as they all headed back to the keep, Robb could not help the nagging in his gut.

He did not know it yet, but he was not ready to be Warden of the North. He wouldn't be ready for years.

* * *

 **A/N:** _So sorry again for the wait and short chapter. A difficult chapter to get through but I hope y'all enjoyed it nonetheless. I hope y'all read the first note. It's important to know your thoughts and wants for this story! So let me know please! Thank y'all for everything! Next chapter should come out much faster! Love you all,_

 _~P_

 _ **Anonymous0786** : So the reason Jon gets one is because he gets one in the books and show. He is raised as Stark and no one except for Ned knows of his true heritage during this time. I just think it's better that way :) thank you for your constant reviews!_

 _ **HPuni101** : Thank you so much for your constant reviewing and support! Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!_

 _ **L-o O-P:** Abbreviated your name xD sorry about that. And ahh, we'll have to see ;)_

 _ **Arianna Le Fay:** Glad to hear you enjoyed it! And I completely understand that. But Amirina identifies more as a Martell and only Ned knows of Jon's true heritage at that point in the series. So he is raised a Stark bastard. Which is why he will get one (as happens in the books and show) and Amirina will not._

 _ **Lady Syndra:** Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this one!_

 _ **BioHazard82** : Thank you for the kind words and I hope this chapter does not disappoint you!_

 _ **ThePhantomismyLove** : Thank you dear!_

 _ **bookangel1624** : Thank you so much for the long review, you don't understand how happy it made me! I love the chemistry between Robb and Ri as well, as it was my intended goal xD and I'm glad you're getting that vibe from Jon and Ri! And yes, I really wanted him to connect to Amirina on a certain level much more than the rest of the family for reasons in the long run! Thank you so much for the review and I hope you stay with this story!_

 _ **C-W-G-967** : I abbreviated your name as well love sorry about that xD Thank you for the review! Hope you continue to love it!_

 _Thank you to all 9 of you who reviewed last chapter!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I don't own GOT or ASOIAF. I only own Amarina and characters not seen in either book or show._

 _Also, warning, short chapter, reasons below._

* * *

"There was never a time when one could feel truly safe in the world. Men flew on dragons. Kings squabbled over land. Magic caused fear to claw at everyone's heart. Nothing was ever truly…safe. There were long nights. There were long winters. There were harsh summers. There was death. Famine starved thousands. Winter froze hundreds. Man slaughtered millions. Dragons burned everything. Yet, there was still hope. Hope never starved, froze, burned, or was slaughtered. It mattered not if an army had only one-thousand men compared to an army of ten-thousand. Hope managed to linger in the hearts of most men. And it was hope that got men through every situation that could possibly occur."

Amirina shut the book as quietly as she could. She had hoped Bran would fall asleep at the story, but he hadn't. In fact, he had a newfound energy that Rina would have to bore to death.

"Why?"

Rina cocked her head then, her braided hair falling down to her side then. She had braided it tightly against her scalp with two on the top of her head and one on each side, evenly spaced. It had been a fortnight since the day in the market. Bran was now eight in terms of years, having had his nameday the day after their trip into Winter Town. She had miscalculated his nameday and realized it was two days after her father left, making her realize how quickly time was passing in Winterfell. She didn't mind, however, and actually reveled in it. But now he was eight and she was closer to her ten and seventh nameday. She gave a sigh then, as if sad for such a thing. She remembered when Bran was born. Now he was growing taller and taller and he was already half her age. She couldn't believe it really.

Next thing she knew, Rickon would be the same.

Amirina focused on Bran's question then, deciding to drown her reality check with some mindless thinking.

"Why is there always hope?" she asked, wishing to clarify the question.

Bran shook his head, "No. Why must men kill men? I understand nature. I get that. Father always says winter is coming. That's nature! We can not stop nature, only brave it and hope to come out alive. But men? Why must we kill others for the benefits of ourselves?"

Rina went slack-jawed then, not understanding how an eight year old could possibly comprehend such a deep thought process and formulate an analytical question that was true in every sense. She cleared her throat and tried to stop herself from revealing her surprise. "Well, Bran, I'm not sure. I'm also not sure how a boy your age knows these things better than a king who is five times your age. You're brilliant Brandon Stark."

Bran blushed then and hid his face lightly under the furs. "I'm not brilliant. It just seems rather dumb that we focus on killing one another more than focusing on helping one another," he said, his dark brown eyes holding a glint of interest.

Amirina couldn't help but grin at the young pup. Bran was smart, and Amirina knew that he would have so much potential when he grew older. She couldn't see him as a knight or warrior. She couldn't see him as a maester either. She saw him as a man who could dissect the broadest subject and get to the answer within minutes. And perhaps there was no name to such a job yet, but she was damned sure he would create such a thing.

"Men kill men, Bran," Amirina started, hoping to give him an answer as best she could. She then shrugged. "I suppose it isn't all about a wife, home, food, family, and warmth. Some men stay unfaithful. Others stay alone. Some, like your father, love forever. But men are all the same, young pup. They all crave one thing and it's blood. Almost all will not admit to such a horrible thing, but once on the field…men will turn into animals. Raging wild animals that have one thing in mind: blood. I don't want you to become that kind of man Bran. Your father isn't one of them. Your brothers aren't any of them. Your family is lucky. Your family does not crave to steal one of life."

"What of your family, Rina?"

Amirina gave a sad smile. "My family is one of the worst. My mother did not like it. She hated bloodshed. But my father? He craves it. It is why he fights as he does. He wants the blood of the Lannister house, as do I. I want to end their 'dynasty' and have them pay their debts for what they did to my aunt and cousins. My mother would be horrified that I'm indulging such information to a boy your age, but I believe you to be ready to hear such things," she stated truthfully. She would not lie to Bran.

"Bran," she started, leaning forward in her chair, her arms relaxed against her knees, "I want you to promise me something."

The young Stark boy only nodded.

"Trust no one but other wolves. Do not trust the fish of the sea nor rivers, for they and the krakens will drown you. Do not trust the lions nor the birds, for they will maim you. Do not trust the stags nor the flowers, for they will trick you. Things may seem harmless, but they won't be Bran. Stags can spear. Flowers can poison. Birds can feast. Lions can rip. Fish can make you ill. Krakens can drown you. But wolves? Wolves will protect you. Wolves will save you. What is it your father says?"

"The lone wolf dies but the pack survives," he stated, an almost scared look upon his young Stark features.

"Exactly, young pup. Trust only the wolves for the wolves will never betray you." She then kissed the boy on the forehead, a wave of exhaustion riding over her. "It is time to sleep now, Bran. Goodnight and I will see you when we break fast," she bid him goodbye, receiving a yawn in return from the boy.

A smile graced her lips as she watched the young boy start to drift off, no doubt bored by her speech. But Amirina would rather hammer that into his mind now, rather than wait until he was old enough to form his own opinions.

Rina left the room quietly then, knowing a loud noise would only invoke certain energy levels that she had just calmed down. She really didn't want that. After her long day, she was exhausted and wanted for her bed.

In the morning, she had helped Bran with some archery, knowing that it was simple enough for him to start with. Aunt Cat had given her a slight scolding but allowed her to go on with it because Ned was completely for it. Then, she had sparred with Jon and Robb for some time, remembering the sweat that had accumulated all over her body. She had taken a bath after that and gods had it felt good. Then, she had taken to entertaining her younger cousins (Rickon and Arya). The two of them together had been quite the handful. Far much harder than she had expected really. Then she finally was able to eat and ended up taking Bran into the library at the keep, which was located in Maester Luwin's tower. They spent an hour or so in there before coming out with a multitude of books for her to read to him before bed. She had done some simple housekeeping tasks and wrote a letter to her father in response to his last one. And finally, she got to put the kids down tonight to help out Catelyn. Raising four children was a lot of work, so Amirina volunteered to do certain things to clear up the stress of the Tully woman.

Now, she could finally rest.

Amirina strolled to her room, her chambers being a little bit past the girls' rooms. She liked the fact that Catelyn had placed her near the family instead of in the guest tower. With her father back in Dorne, there was no point to leave her alone in the tower. She appreciated it and found herself much more comfortable being close to the family.

As she entered her chambers, she breathed a sigh of relief. Her bed was waiting invitingly for her. But gods did she wish she had someone to share it with. And one might think it odd. She was barely reaching her ten and seventh nameday, why would she be wishing for a partner in bed? Why would she not? She was becoming old in age for marriage. Most girl were married by their first moon-blood. Amirina had her first bleed when she was ten and twelve. There were multiple potential matches, but none were high enough in her father's eyes. And while she appreciated his harsh critique, she sometimes wished he had just chosen a husband for her. For Amirina Martell was a picky woman now; it seemed as though no man could satisfy her.

But there was one. She rather liked him. She really truly did. Well, perhaps it was more of an attraction at the moment. Growing up with someone caused for some awkward feeling struggles. They were related as well, which was considered weird and unusual now. Of course, her mother's parents were first-cousins, and hells, even Tywin Lannister had married his cousin. But Amirina knew that people viewed it oddly, despite the popularity of it. Arranged marriages usually ended up that way. Distant or first cousins thrown together to ensure houses stay together. But no one would see it like that in Winterfell.

They were far too honorable for that.

So Amirina Martell was stuck, wedged between a rock and a hard place. She could not pursue her feelings, as she wished she could. She was receiving blatant signs from multiple men and boys, but she cared not. She only wished for the one man to show her something; she wanted something more than a "sisterly" connection to him. She knew he viewed her as a sister and best friend. And gods did she wish he didn't. It made it all the harder for her to receive affection as she so craved.

She remembered distinctly when she started fancying him. She had come back to Winterfell for a brief trip after Bran's birth. Her father had let her travel up North with him for her ten and fourth nameday, a time to spend with her extended family.

/-/

 _Amirina bounced excitedly in her chair._

 _"Hold still, young one," the older voice of Catelyn Stark spoke softly. She was still slightly recovering from Rickon's birth, as his had taken a toll upon her body. Birthing five children…that was a lot in Amirina's young mind. "I'm almost done with your braids."_

 _Amirina huffed in exasperation, not caring for her hair to be all pinned up and pretty. She liked when Nalia did her hair. Nalia was her handmaiden, a previous whore who her father had taken in due to her looks and her kindness. Amirina was not blind to her father's lust, she was not a babe. She was not fully intuitive to everything regarding a man being with a woman physically, but she knew enough. Enough to know that her father liked Nalia for more than her braiding skills._

 _Anyways, Nalia was a girl of twenty years. She had tanned skin, darker than Oberyn's by many shades. Her hair was a mess of dark curls, long and slightly frizzed. She had a sharp face with large lips and slanted black eyes. Her body was everything a Dornish woman dreamt of: lithe and hourglass. Amirina found herself full of envy when staring at her handmaiden. She wished to be built like the woman and to be beautiful like her as well. But she never would build up as the exotic woman did._

 _Nalia would braid Amirina's hair tight to her scalp in four strands total. She would place flowers or metal claspings amongst her dark strands. Rina loved the style and would eventually learn how to do it up as such. But right now? Her hair had two loose braids from both sides of her head, pulled to the back and connected into one long braid over her wavy locks. It felt too…distracting to Amirina._

 _"Are ya done yet, Aunt Cat?" Amirina drawled out, an impatient tone to her young voice._

 _Catelyn sighed and gave up then, deciding not to do a final braid and just clasp the four braids together. "Yes, my dear. I am finished with these torturous braids," she said, a joking tone to her tired voice._

 _Amirina jumped from her seat and gave a cheer of laughter. She spun around and gave her aunt a squeeze around the waist, giving a tight hug. "Thank you, Aunt Cat! My hair looks absolutely stunning!" she exclaimed, pulling away then and stepping away to grab her slippers from by the foot of her bed._

 _"You have yet to see your hair, Rina," Catelyn laughed lightly, giving a mock scolding eye to the girl._

 _Amirina rolled her brown eyes and hurriedly pushed her feet into her blue slippers. "Actually, my dear aunt, I did see my hair. It falls into my face every time I move," she said with a bit of a sarcastic backing. She did so all in good jest, however, and smiled to the Tully woman._

 _"Of course," Catelyn agreed, as if it were the simplest thing in the entire world. She shook her head with a smile and her Tully-blue eyes motioned tou the door. "Go on, my dear. Your cousins await you in the great hall. I'm certain they all have their own surprises for you."_

 _Amirina grinned and gave her aunt one last hug before darting out of the room. She held her skirts up as she trotted down the halls of the great keep, her slippers soundless against the grey stones that made up Winterfell. She cared not for the young maids who stared at her curiously. She cared not for the old crones who shook their heads with disapproval. She simply cared about reaching the great hall._

 _The trip that normally took a good few minutes was over within three minutes and Amirina arrived at the front doors huffing, her hair wild. Her cheeks were flushed and tinged with pink from the brisk wind that stung her skin lightly. Her breath came out in infrequent puffs from the sprinting and her feet ached from running in mere slippers. But she did not care. She was a princess of Dorne, she could do as she pleased._

 _Amirina entered the great hall and was greeted by the roar of the fire behind the head table and the loud laughter from multiple guests. She felt a swell of excitement and pride, as all those people were in there for her. Rina knew her father and uncle would ensure every lord and lady in the North was there for her ten and fourth nameday._

 _And near the head table was the table her extended family sat at. Well, the children at least. Her father sat at the head table, along with her uncle and aunt_ ( _who were both yet to arrive). He sat alone and with a goblet in hand, a far-off look in his dark eyes, his hand motioning in a circular fashion. Amirina wished to go speak with her father but her cousins awaited her and had been for some time. So, she decided to push that talk to the side and walked as lady-like as possible to her cousins._

 _Robb, Sansa, Arya, and Bran all sat at the table. Rickon was too young to be at feasts, as he was just born. Lady Catelyn had him with a wet nurse at the moment, or Amirina believed so. She had no idea as to where else her aunt would put the babe._

 _Amirina walked over and tried to ignore the fact that her half-cousin, Jon, was not seated with his siblings. She had begged her aunt and uncle to let him attend. The last time she had been in Winterfell, it seemed as though their friendship had withered. She was scarcely able to see him and Robb always made sure to take up her time. She never got to break fast with him or eat dinner with him like she used to. It rather bothered her and since she had come back, she had seen her cousin maybe once or twice. She had yet to speak with him. And seeing that her aunt and uncle failed to let him attend, it seemed as though she would have to seek him out._

 _But that was for later._

 _"Rina!" Robb exclaimed, a boyish grin on his young features. The eldest Stark child was ten and two, his teeth of childhood gone and filled. His curls were growing lighter and more red and his cheeks were starting to thin slightly. But he still held the fat of a babe. But Amirina found his features adorable._

 _"Robb!" she exclaimed with the same amount of enthusiasm. She found him annoying at times, but as the two grew, she grew more and more fond of her younger cousin. And in saying fond, she would mean that she rather liked him instead of constantly dreading his presence._

 _The_ _Stark boy was nearing her height and wrapped her in a tight embrace. He pulled away and smiled vivaciously. He motioned for her to sit on the bench alongside him with his other siblings, inviting her to dine with them as was expected._

 _"You are old now, Ri!" Arya exclaimed, a grin with a small lack of baby teeth decorating her face._

 _Amirina giggled and shook her head. "I'm not old! I'm just old-er! There's a difference," she teased, knowing full well she could be considered old. She should be betrothed by now, and yet, she wasn't. Amirina was gladdened by this fact, however, as she couldn't see herself marrying anyone. She would grow old by herself, fighting for Dorne. The thought sounded rather good._

 _"Rina's olllld," Sansa teased, Robb sniggering beside the Martell girl._

 _The hazel eyes of Rina rolled slightly as she crossed her arms. "I'm not old."_

 _"Old crone says what?" Robb joked, elbowing her slightly._

 _"What in the name of Old and New did you say Robb?" she asked, confused by what he stated. In Dorne, it was hard to find people who joked around a lot, and even then, the jokes were far more different than one could imagine._

 _The Stark children laughed, as Amirina had unwittingly fallen for the trap._

 _"You're an old crone!" Arya laughed jovially, her young features scrunching up with her toothy grin (well as many teeth as she had left)._

 _Amirina rolled her eyes as her mind finally processed what the joke meant, in some form. An old crone said what, and she had said what in her question, meaning she was the old crone. "You all never fail to make me laugh," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice._

 _"That is our purpose!" Robb stated, either catching the sarcasm or letting it fly over his head, Amirina could not tell. She just laughed and sat with her cousins at the table, enjoying the time she had with them, for it was sca_ rce _and far between._

 _It wasn't for an hour or so until Amirina was released from her cousins' grasps. Robb had gone over to a girl by the name of Jeyne and asked her to dance. The little girl was a bit younger than he and Amirina could tell his young heart found her pretty. It was a childhood crush and she found it adorable. Sansa had been tasked with taking Arya and Bran to bed with promises of lemon cakes when she returned. Uncle Ned was busy with her father and aunt, so Amirina found time to sneak off to find her half-cousin._

 _It wasn't that she didn't enjoy her nameday feast, she just wished Jon had been there to partake in it. He always gave her presents when she arrived in Winterfell and she hadn't received her present yet. Sure, she loved presents, who wouldn't? But she wasn't that shallow. She loved anything from her cousin, as it was always picked just for her tastes. Robb had always been a bit off the mark, as had her aunt and uncle. He had given her a toy horse this year, a small wooden one that he found practical. Rina liked it enough but knew it was too young a gift for a girl like her. But she appreciated the thought nonetheless. Catelyn and Ned had given a gift from themselves and Sansa and Arya as one large gift, of which it was a gown. It was rather pretty and Amirina knew she would wear it for as long as she could in Winterfell. It was too heavy for Dorne but perfect for the brisk winds of the North. It had beautiful gold detailing with some dark blues and greys, mixing her two houses. Her father said her gift awaited her in Dorne and she was ecstatic to find out what it was._

 _But that left Jon. Someone she had yet to truly speak to during this visit. And by old and new she missed her best friend. It didn't matter if he was a Snow or Stark, he was her cousin and her greatest friend in all of the Seven Kingdoms. So she escaped the festivities and searched for her cousin, knowing he was either in his room reading or out by the horses. She had checked the stables first, thinking he'd be there with Rudy, the new colt that was foaled recently who he had grown fond of. But she could not find that mess of dark brown curls anywhere in the excess hay and whinnies. So she went up to his room, in the great keep. She knew he only lived in there because Ned demanded it. Catelyn would have him thrown out or at the least in the guest tower, but Ned would have none of that nonsense._

 _Amirina climbed the stairs as quickly and quietly as she could, knowing anyone could be suspicious of her activities and report them back to her father or aunt. She held up the skirts of her dress and quickly walked the hallways, trying her best to be as discreet as possible in the cold stone walkways. It didn't take long for her to reach his door, the spruce wood hinged onto the stone workings by steel. She had memorized the way when she first arrived in Winterfell and had become his friend._

 _Without a knock, she entered into the room, greeted by a crackling fire and warmth away from the chill of the hallways. Instantly, her cheeked rosied from the drastic change in temperature and the tip of her nose reddened as well. But the sight of a sad looking boy who held an unopened book in his hands caught her attention first. The warmth was nice. The familiarity was kind. But she cared not for those when her cousin sat unhappily upon his bed._

 _He turned his head towards her intrusion and his near-black eyes widened at the sight of her, obviously surprised by her appearance. Surprised that she had shown up._

 _"How is it that my favorite cousin does not show for my nameday feast?" she teased, a sad look in her hazel eyes, which were growing lighter in the light of the fire, her feet approaching the bed._

 _Jon sighed and twiddled his thumbs, picking at the book slightly. "Lady Catelyn said it was best if I didn't come, she said you would be embarrassed if I were to attend," he spoke softly, his young voice almost heartbroken but definitely hurt._

 _Amirina's heart nearly crumpled at his confession, causing her to hurry to his bed and sit upon the side, the furs providing extra warmth. She motioned for him to sit and lay his head on her lap, with which he complied easily. He held the book to his chest and curled up to her, his curls wild upon her skirts. She stroked his scalp lightly with her right hand and rubbed his shoulder with her left. She found it was what worked to calm him and make him feel like he wasn't just some stain upon the family name. Her father would do it to her when she grew sad or angry or lonely and she found that it worked, so she adopted it with little Jon._

 _"Jon," she started, looking down at his pained features, "what have I told you?"_

 _His eyes were turning as red as roses and she could see the sheen of tears threatening his young eyes. Gods it pained her to see him like that, for she knew it was nothing but cruelty that caused it. "You tell me to not listen to a word Lady Catelyn speaks to me," he quivered, "you tell me it's only words."_

 _"And words can not break a man's armor, can they?" she asked softly, a sad smile upon her lips._

 _"Only steel can," he whispered, the tension in his limbs easing slightly. Despite the close ages of the two, Jon was vulnerable as a child and Amirina often had to act almost motherly to him, for he lacked that loving touch he craved. Rina loved to show that Jon was not just some bastard of a noble lord, but a son and brother and cousin. He was more than just some mistake. He was a Stark's son, bastard or not. He had Stark blood in him. Catelyn just made sure he forgot that._

 _"You're ten and two, Jon," Rina said, her eyes focused on his calming visage, "you can not continue to let her harm you with her contempt. You are too old to be affected by her any longer. She will hurt you and shame you, but she'll never lay a hand on you. You understand me, Jon?"_

 _Amirina may have times when she was hyper, or childish, or foolish, or joking, but she was wise when it came down to it and she was motherly when needed. She had to mother herself and having to do that allowed her such an ability at such an immature age. Being around younger cousins also helped her loosen up a bit as well._

 _Deciding to change the subject, she motioned for him to roll onto his back and lay the back of his head upon her lap. She leaned back on her hands and inquired, "Now what is it you have there?"_

 _Jon smiled lightly, "It's your present. I know Maester Luwin always complains about you taking too many books with you at once, so I copied all of your favorite stories into this here book!"_

 _He was so proud of it and so happy, Amirina couldn't help the wide grin that spread across her lips._

 _"Well then," she clapped her hands, "read me a story!"_

 _Jon gave a bashful smile, his dark eyes twinkling with pride. He opened the book and held it at an angle so he could read it laying down. As he flipped through, trying to find the perfect story for her, Amirina couldn't help but admire his young features. He was ten and two, yes. But she had just turned ten and four and he would reach his ten and three nameday soon enough. It wasn't like she was years older than him. Just about a year and a half. So as she stared, she couldn't help but notice small things about him that she didn't notice before. The small crinkle between his eyebrows as if he brooded all day. The light tings of hazel around his pupils that seemed to darken into that grey she rather enjoyed. The slight tinge of almost…blonde in his hair in the firelight. She brushed that off as the light hitting his hairs differently. But she stared and smiled at him, realizing that her cousin was quite cute._

 _"Rina?" he asked, rousing her from her stupor. "Would you like the Knight of the Gardens and the Queen of the Seas story?"_

 _Slightly embarrassed and hoping he didn't notice her staring, Amirina nodded her head. "I would love that," she admitted._

 _And for the rest of the night, Jon Snow read stories of knights, queens, kings, dragons, and heroes to Amirina Martell._

 _/-/_

Amirina smiled fondly at the memory as she changed into her sleeping gown. She still had the book. He had given it to her in the morning, telling her that if she found another story she loved, he would add it when she returned. Rina left it in Dorne however, and Jon eventually just forgot about the book. Perhaps it was because he wasn't ten and two anymore and wasn't worried with the fantasies of children. She still had it though. And whenever she missed her family, she read the stories. She even added a few of her own creative thinking. And she loved it. She just wished he remembered it.

The Martell gave a yawn and crawled into her bed, the furs too inviting to deny any longer. She curled beneath them and welcomed their warmth and the sweet embrace of sleep that followed.

* * *

 **A/N:** _I apologize for the long wait and short chapter. I'm not in a good place right now and I just haven't had a ton of time. I know this doesn't make up for my absence but hopefully these next few chapters will. I wanted to give some fluff, however you take it, and while it's not my best, I damn tried considering the problems I'm having at the moment. My writing will fluctuate these next few chapters and I hope you forgive me in advance. Thank you again for all the support and love, I hope you continue to follow this story. I'd love to hear your thoughts._

 _Love,_

 _P_

 _ **JoeDanger** : Haha, thank you for the thought in your response. Who knows? Maybe there won't even be a winner? Maybe there will? Glad to see you're maybe giving this story a chance! I'd love to hear your thoughts again!_

 _ **Guest** : I understand your frustrations and I hope you stick with this story to find out! Thanks for the review!_

 _ **HPuni101** : Love your continued reviews and support! Thank you so much. I hope this chapter isn't too dissatisfying and that I don't disappoint too much!_

 _ **Guest** : Thank you for the review! Hope you stick around to figure out what will happen!_

 _ **C-W-G-967** : Thank you for the review! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much love!_

 _Also! Thank you all for the support and the 130+ follows and nearly 100 favorites! It's an honor to have that many people enjoy this enough to follow and favorite. I hope I don't disappoint too much in this time of difficulty. Thank you all again._


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: I don't own GOT, yada yada yada…_

* * *

 _My dearest niece,_

 _I assume your father has informed you of what I have narrowed down. If he has not and this is the first time you are hearing of my decision, I apologize. For the sake of House Martell, I have started discussing the possibility of a betrothal between you and…_

Amirina rolled up the parchment and threw it across the room. It didn't travel far but she could not find it in herself to care whether it traveled ten leagues or the length of her index finger. She was far too livid to care for that.

"He promised," she muttered with a fury unknown to even herself. But she was enraged. Her father promised to ensure her uncle would not try to secure a marriage for at least a year. Twelve moons. And how long had it been since he had left? Two moons at most? Perhaps nearing three?

She gave a scream of frustration. Her mind played over the suitor and while she knew he wasn't a bad man, she knew she wouldn't be happy. And gods she wanted to be happy. She wanted to be happy like her parents were. She wanted to be happy like her aunt and uncle were. She wanted to be happy like her Uncle Doran used to be. She wanted a loving marriage. She did not want it arranged. She did not want to marry the man who did not hold her heart. She wanted to marry the man she chose. She wanted to marry the man who she could love before she became his. She did not want what her uncle proposed.

But no matter her strength, she was a niece, a girl to pawn off to ensure loyalty and friendship. Her wants did not matter. She could only hope the negotiations would sour and she would be free from this position once more.

As luck would have it, she doubted she would be free of the grasps of an arranged betrothal. She doubted she would marry the man she loved. She doubted she would ever be truly happy.

So, she did not write back to her Uncle Doran. She would not acknowledge his attempts, in hopes of stopping him and showing her disinterest. She decided to vent her frustrations elsewhere, as she did not wish to ruin her room. And if she stayed in there much longer, she would have done exactly that. The best place to exact one's anger and revenge upon inanimate objects was the sparring field and it was Amirina's place of interest.

She quickly changed into her tunic and trousers, caring not if the wind was a bit more nippy today than yesterday. She was far too agitated to care much for the chill in the air. Rina laced her boots and tied her braids back with a ribbon, not minding if it was tight or not. It didn't really matter all too much to her, as her hair would not fly in her face no matter what. She just needed a way to feel the wind whip across her face and lash her as she attacked something.

Amirina walked quickly to the sparring grounds and grabbed a dull sword. She was not very talented with such weapons, but it was not of concern. A rod would not suffice her at the moment and the swords were closest. Her right hand tried to adjust to the weight distribution of the weapon, feeling slightly off at the moment. And as she pulled the sword up, her hand shook slightly. But still…she did not care.

The Martell girl approached a wooden practice model, who held battle scars from years and years of training. The dark oak wood was showing the wear and tear of full swords and the color was fading to almost a birch brown. But Amirina did not care. She did not even make a sound. She just started swinging.

The sword was uneven, so her first few swings fell to the sides or were pathetic against the dummy. It took her some time before she could find some sort of rhythm and some sort of equilibrium while wielding the sword. But once she found both, she was attacking the wood with a fury that few were able to witness. Her arm came down, sliced up, across, diagonal. At one point, she forced the one-handed sword to become two-handed, as she crammed her left hand onto the hilt so she could execute the slashes with more power. The greater the power, the more anger released. And she had a lot of anger at the moment.

Time passed without thought. She had not broken her fast, nor eaten her mid-day meal. Her stomach made no complaints, however, and continued to fuel her as best it could without sustenance. Her muscles were tiring, but they refused to give up or out. Her body ached, but it still delivered as much power as it could. Her lungs burned, yet they fueled her huffing in concentration and fury. Her eyes strained to focus, yet they still provided clear sight for the attacks. Gods know how long she was there, wiping herself out over one small letter.

"Do you wish to kill the poor thing? I believe you'll have a hard time," a quiet voice spoke up, breaking Amirina's trance.

Huffing, the Martell turned to see the bastard of House Stark. "I'll be damned if I let it live," she said, a venom to her voice that surprised Jon Snow. He had not heard her use such a way of speech and he was pretty sure it had something to do with her family.

"At least give the thing a break," Jon shrugged, leaning forward against the fencing.

Amirina shuffled slightly and sighed, "I don't want one."

She knew he had meant for her to take a break, as she could feel how her face looked. Sweat dropped from her brow and hair line. Her lungs were grasping at oxygen. A tiredness washed over her. She had not eaten. She was angry. She knew she looked like a pile of horse-shit at the moment, but she really didn't care.

Jon shook his head, "Yes you do, cousin. And if you do not want one, you at least need one."

Amirina sighed and looked back at the scar-riddled dummy, not wishing to leave but knowing her cousin would force her to. So she placed the practice sword back upon the rack and walked outside of the fenced-in area, Jon waiting for her.

"Rina," he said, noting her glum look, "how about we spar after you rest some? Eat and rest and we shall spar after."

The idea immediately made Amirina's eyes brighten, a gleeful twinkle entering the almost oak orbs. She gave a toothy smile and grasped her cousin's arm. "Thank you, Jon. I really do look forward to it. It has been some time since we have done such," she spoke, a sincerity to her voice that was accompanied by an almost far-away spaciness. It was almost as if she remembered something as she thanked him.

He waved it off. "Of course, Rina. I would love to see you lose in a spar. And if I remember correctly, you still owe me one anyways," he said, a smile upon his Northern features.

"Just because you'd love to see it, Jon, doesn't mean it will happen," she joked, nudging him slightly and laughing lightly. Jon rolled his eyes and laughed quietly with her, knowing to draw as little attention to them as possible for fear of Lady Catelyn being told of his disobedience in spending time with Rina. They both knew it, Jon just followed it more closely.

Jon just smiled and wrapped an arm around Amirina's shoulders in a brotherly fashion, not knowing how it wrapped her stomach into knots with the knowledge of the gesture being so…brotherly and just kind. He'd never know how much it pained her.

* * *

Rina gave a huff and threw her staff up to block Jon's downward cut. She had to admit, he had gotten better…much better. She wasn't a fan of that.

Pushing his sword off, Amirina swung to the side and attempted to sweep her staff at Jon's feet, failing by an inch. He managed to barely block her attack before jumping back to reset. Pushing stray strands of hair from her sweat-covered face, Amirina took a deep breath. He was giving her a challenge, and while she loved it, she hated the fact that she could not throw him off balance.

"You're a bit rusty, Rina," Jon smirked, slashing his sword to her unguarded right-side. She threw her staff down, planting it in the ground, deflecting the swing.

She used the quick moment to swing her braids behind her, as they had managed to hang over her right shoulder. "By Old and New Jon, you have not seen me spar someone in weeks. And we have never had a real spar. How could you believe me to be struggling?" she chuckled, her breath coming out a bit shaky.

Jon laughed and pulled his sword up, taking a step to his right to avoid her staff being pulled up. "I'm simply knowledgeable in those areas, dear cousin," he said, his sword pushing away Amirina's staff. "And I'm also quite good at recognizing weakness in one's tactics."

"I highly doubt that, Snow." Amirina rolled her eyes and jumped back to give herself some space to work with. She had been far too close to the taller man to be safe. Rina knew he was better when fighting close, as he was wielding a short sword. She was better when further apart, as she could tire out her opponent then strike close.

He recognized her move and stepped closer, not allowing her time to swing her staff. "See, Rina? You struggle with subtlety," he teased, feigning left and swinging right.

But he swung too high, as Rina barely had to move to block the attempt. "And you struggle with aiming, Snow," she laughed back. Pushing his sword back, she hoped to throw him off balance, but she wasn't quite strong enough yet.

"And you're weak."

"And you're slow."

The two went back and forth for a good few minutes, calling out weaknesses as they sparred. One was not better than the other. Amirina had a better trainer, but she was smaller than Jon. Jon was stronger and bigger, but he had not been training long enough to beat her. It was an offset that caused for a long sparring session. Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes would soon turn to an hour at the pace they were going.

And yet they were still alone in the sparring ring.

"You hit far too high, Snow. I can block my chest easier than my legs," she noted, deciding to help him with his technique.

"And you hit far too slowly. You mustn't think too much when attacking," he said, sounding much like her own father with his criticism.

She gave a chuckle and for a split second, thought back to her father training her by the cliffs of Sunspear. And that split second was enough for Jon to take the upper hand. He used the blunted edge of the sword to distract her high and catch her off balance, swinging his leg underneath her own. She fell back, and gave an oof, her back connecting hard with the ground. It dazed her slightly as she cursed her own wandering mind.

Jon chuckled and held his sword out to her, pointing the tip towards her throat.

"I've won, cousin," he said, a smile upon his lips.

Amirina cocked an eyebrow and threw her staff behind his ankles, knocking him upon his back as well. He landed just as harshly and almost next to her. She used the moment he was dazed to swing up and onto him. She was straddling his waist, her staff pointed towards his face. But in a second, Jon had whipped his sword to her throat, the edge ghosting over her skin.

"I saw ya fight Robb, Rina, don't think I forgot your tricks," he said, his words breathless due to the wind being slightly knocked out of him.

Rina chuckled, "I didn't expect you to, Jon. But I win."

Jon laughed, the sword still held up to her throat. "You realize I have the advantage, cousin? I could end your life on the battlefield even when under you. A sword is much easier to kill with than your staff," he stated matter-of-factly.

Amirina scoffed and leaned closer to Jon's face, "Staffs can kill a man faster than any sword could. If we were on the battlefield and I were on top, you'd be dead before you could catch your breath."

Jon smiled at her and Rina stopped for a moment. She just wanted to admire him for a second. His grey eyes, nearly black, twinkled with amusement (something Amirina rarely saw within his eyes). His young visage had the start of strength within it; his jawline harboring the start of a beard. His dark curls were wild from the spar. A bright smile was on his lips, his white teeth showing. But as Amirina stared, his lips started to slacken and his breath started to deepen (she could feel it hitting her face). She could not understand why he loosened up as so. She could feel her heart thumping within her chest, her breath coming out slower. Her eyes searched his own for a moment, as if trying to find the answer.

"Rina! Jon!"

Rina jumped off of Jon within a second and took in a shaky breath. She had to be careful. She couldn't…she couldn't be thinking of Jon like that. She shouldn't be. There was nothing there…there never would be.

She turned to Jon, thinking he would be standing by now, but he wasn't. He was sitting up, yes, but he was sitting there, a confused look upon his face. His eyebrows were scrunched in and a look she had never seen before was in his dark eyes. She wondered what he was thinking about, but she cast aside the thoughts. Instead, she reached her hand out.

Jon seemed to snap out of his daze and he noticed her hand. He grabbed it and pushed off the ground, steadying himself. He quickly let go of her hand, as if it burned him. She paid this no mind however, and simply put her staff against the rack.

Across the field, Amirina could see Bran and Arya, with Rickon trying to keep up. She gave a wide smile as the three young pups approached. Arya was nine namedays old by now, Bran was eight namedays old, and Rickon was four. She remembered when Rickon was just born and she found it incredible that they were growing so fast.

"Rina!" Rickon called out, his short legs picking up speed so he could run to her.

"Little wolf," she said endearingly. She opened the gate and knelt to the ground, spreading her arms out for the boy. He gave a toothy grin and hopped into her embrace. She chuckled at his sudden weight and steadied herself so she wouldn't fall backwards. "Why are you so excited, young one?" she chuckled, holding his head close to her.

"I miss ya, Rina!" he said, pulling away and placing kisses on her face.

She started to laugh and fell back onto the dirt, the small boy hugging onto her and kissing her face like an excited dog. "Rickon!" she laughed out, unable to breathe much from the actions and laughter. "Rickon, stop!" she couldn't help the laughing, as his light kisses tickled her face and she was unable to stop him.

The youngest Stark obeyed and sat up on Amirina's waist, criss-crossing his legs. "Bran, Arya, and I wanted to go horse ridin' with ya!" he said expectantly. "Jon should come too!" he looked up and over at the stock still teen. Amirina looked up and back, frowning at the look upon Jon's face.

But he snapped out of his daze and nodded at Rickon. "Of course, I'll join ya," he smiled, truly happy. And Rina could tell he was, as he rarely got invited to do things directly.

Rickon then looked down at Rina, awaiting her answer. She smiled and tickled the young boy, "Of course I will come, silly pup!"

The boy gave a cry of happiness and jumped off of her, pulling her hand so he could pull her up and off the ground. She stood from the dirt and dusted herself off. Amirina held onto the boy's hand and allowed him to lead her and Jon to the stables.

* * *

The foliage swept past quickly, the sound of hooves hitting the dirt resounding in Amirina's ears. They had recently left the walls of Winterfell and were riding through one of the forests nearby. Amirina had not had time to change and still donned her tunic and leathers. Her sweat had cooled from her skin, and her hair had strands sticking from her braids. But she was due to let the braids out anyways. She would probably do that tonight.

Rickon sat in front of her on one of the mares. Bran sat with Jon on his stallion, and Arya rode on her own filly. Amirina missed her stallion, Valerian. He was a beautiful chestnut color with a black star marking and black socks upon his powerful legs. He wasn't so much a fast horse, but a powerful one. She would only ever use him for fighting if ever in that situation. She usually rode his mate, her mare, Mera. She would ride her for fun and bring Valerian along usually. But they had recently had a colt, of which Amirina named after her father. For her father's fortieth nameday, she gave him the colt as a present, honoring him. She wondered how Oberyn (her father) was doing…

"Can we go to the pool, Rina?" Arya asked, the three horses slowing slightly to a gentle trot.

Amirina shrugged and nodded to Jon, "I'm not sure Arya, ask your brother."

"Of course Arya," he conceded quickly, wishing to please his little sister, "just ensure that your mother does not find out."

Arya gave a squeal of excitement and urged her filly to proceed into a gallop through the woods towards the hot pools. They sat above natural gas veins which heated the pools to where they were warm enough for one to swim in during the cooling months. However, there wasn't usually enough gas to heat up the pools to a comfortable temperature. So, more oft than not, the pools were colder than most preferred. But they were still fun to swim in.

They neared the pools and Arya was already off of her horse, sprinting to the nearest one. They were shallow enough for Arya and Bran to swim comfortably, but Rickon would struggle. Rina wasn't sure what they would do about the youngest, but she was sure Jon would join in with them. He usually did.

They came up on the natural pools and Amirina stopped the mare, hopping off before grabbing Rickon and setting him on the ground. "Wait for me, young pup," she directed, taking the reins off of the horse so she could eat and walk comfortably. Jon copied her actions with his stallion and Bran, but his went much quicker, as he had a relationship with the horse. Rina has yet to build one.

The grass was tall around this area and Rina found it beautiful. It wasn't a clearing really. The tall fir trees were scattered around the area, thinning enough for them to move with ease from pool to pool. The naturally occurring basins were only big enough for around one to two people, but Arya and Bran were small enough to fit into one together without much discomfort. But someone would have to go in with Rickon to ensure he was safe, and even then, it wouldn't be too bad.

Rina watched as Bran ran with Arya to one of the pools, the two having taken their upper layers off. They had a layer underneath that was thinner and would dry quickly when on their way back. Rina knelt down and helped Little Rickon take off his tunic, easily unlacing it. She made sure he got his boots off and that he kept his trousers on. She let him take off his undershirt, as he never liked the feeling of a wet shirt. She found it odd but complied with his requests every time.

Rina searched for Jon and when she found him, standing by his horse, she picked Rickon up and approached him. He looked over at her and quickly looked back at the other two Stark children. Something was bothering him but she would leave it for him to explain on his own. It often worked out better that way.

"Jon," she said, trying to situate Rickon so he was comfortable, "do you mind sitting in the pool with Rickon? I can, if you don't wish to, but I thought he'd like it if you joined him."

Jon nodded and motioned for Rina to hand the young boy over. She did so, Rickon giving a smile at Jon complying. Rina followed the pair to one of the smaller pools, taking her boots off and rolling up her leathers so she may stick her feet in the pool and sit on the ledge. The grass was shorter by the edges, so it was easier to sit by and the grass didn't tickle you as much. Jon set Rickon down and Rina made sure the young boy didn't go into the water until Jon was in.

She looked up at her cousin and realized quickly he was discarding his tunic and undershirt. Rina stared for a moment before quickly turning her head the other way. She felt her cheeks burn hot at the image in her mind. She had never seen a man shirtless that was attractive to her. Sure, she saw her father shirtless all of the time, but that was different. She was most definitely not attracted to him. But Jon…she had not seen him shirtless as a teen. And she saw how his sparring lessons were paying off.

Clearing her throat and her mind, Rina turned to see Jon stepping into the pool, sitting in the water on a natural step formation that was high enough for Jon's upper chest and above to stay dry. He turned and picked up Rickon and set him in the water, the boy giving a sound of excitement and happiness at being with Jon in the water. Rickon was decent enough at swimming that he could do so in a shallow and small pool with someone near him. So Jon let him go free, ready to assist if necessary.

Rien reached over and grabbed her cousin's tops, folding them gently as the silence engulfed the duo. The sounds of fun and excitement were nearby however, as Bran and Arya were playing. But they sounded far away in the silence.

"Will you tell me why you were so enraged today?"

Amirina's head shot up and she looked over at Jon. He was still staring at Rickon flailing around and trying to swim with correct form. She gave a sigh and turned her head downwards, anger and sadness filling her.

"I received a raven this morning, from my uncle," she stated quietly.

Jon stayed quiet, waiting for her to explain.

"He uh, he met with a lord and his wife a few days ago after receiving an offer. A betrothal for me. Usually, he knows I wish not for a husband. But he seemed…set on this one, as if it is not my choice. I cared not to write him back," she said, twiddling with the loose strands of string on his under shirt.

Jon just nodded. She didn't expect much from him. Maybe a few assuring words, as he normally provided, but this was a whole new subject. Something he wasn't experience with.

"Who?" was all he asked.

"Willas Tyrell," she muttered, hoping her braids would hide her sad features. She did not want to seem rude, but she really did not want to marry a man who was crippled and let it live his life for him. She heard stories of his handsome looks and book-smarts, but also of how truly sad he was. And she did not want to marry a man who let an injury decide his life for him.

"The cripple? The one your father crippled?" he questioned, turning towards her finally.

"That is the one."

Jon grabbed his cousin's hand then, "And why have you not denied the request?"

She was surprised by the sudden contact but was happy for Jon to be Jon again. He normally held her hand out of comfort or would hug her. This simply made sure she didn't feel alone.

"Because I was busy sparring you, silly wolf," she smiled slightly, the sadness of knowing her denial would probably be denied shining in her eyes.

Jon shook his head, "You will send a raven when we return, telling your uncle of your decision."

"And why is that, Jon Snow?" Rina cocked an eyebrow at his almost protective and near commanding tone of voice.

He then looked her straight in her oak brown eyes with his cloudy grey, "Because I'm not losing my best friend to some wilted flower."

Gods did that word hurt her. It burned her almost, like fire licking at her skin. She thought that perhaps it was leagues better than sister, but it still pained her. He'd never see her in that light…the light she wanted him to see her in. He'd never know that though.

She gave a pained smile to him in response, squeezing his hand, "Thank you, Snow."

"I'm serious Rina," he said, as if she wasn't understanding him. "You've been the older sister I've needed. You've been my friend when you didn't have to be. You've been my support for years, even when you're in Dorne. I'm not letting you be swept away to Highgarden so some cripple may take your hand in marriage. I simply won't allow it."

Rina has to stop herself from crying. Never had he truly voiced how she had helped him nor how he felt from her presence. But now she had a snippet, an idea, of what he believed of her. And while it hurt a bit, it made her heart enlarge from happiness and friendly love. She truly loved Jon in the way two friends love one another. But bits and pieces had been breaking off from that since he gave her that book for her ten and fourth name day. Now, they were building something entirely different that would take years to finish.

"Jon, I-"

Rina was interrupted by Rickon splashing her with water.

"You little-!" Rina was once again stopped as Rickon splashed her. "I'm going to get you!" she playfully cried, taking off her tunic, leaving the loose, short-sleeved undershirt to bare. She didn't mind that she was only in the thin material. She knew Jon wouldn't look twice. So, she slid into the water and started to splash Rickon back, playfully yet carefully wrestling in the water with the four year old, unaware of who watched her.

* * *

Jon wasn't sure what was racing through his mind. He wasn't entirely sure what was even going on. One minute, they had been sparring and teasing one another. The next, she had been on top of him and probably too close to his face.

He didn't know what to think. If only she hadn't been his cousin...that was his main thought right now. He loved her as a brother loved a sister. He couldn't change that. But that mindset only worsened his buzzing ideas.

She had been so close. So damn close to his face. He could pick out every freckle, every eye lash, every hair of her arched eyebrows. Every detail of blue and green laid hidden in those oak eyes of her's. He could feel her breath on him, that slow breathing. He could feel her racing heart, or maybe that had been his own. He wasn't quite sure, but he'd like to think it was her's and not his. The way she had worded her tease…it made Jon think…no.

He needed to stop this nonsense. It had been a simple spar with a bit of too much teasing and too close of proximity for cousins. He simply recognized his cousin was beautiful and that was that. Nothing else to it.

But where was that burning coming from? Why did it sear his insides? Why was he angry at the fact that Amirina had a possible betrothal? He knew of how many men sought after her. How could they not? She was smart, beautiful, damned good at sparring, and funny. She had the name. She had the wealth. She was ripe for the picking (maybe too old now for some, but still fairly sought after). Yet, he still felt angry. Angry that someone would try to take her away from him. Angry that she would be forced to leave.

Why though? Why would he feel such a burn within his being?

He then realized why.

It was because she was his best friend, sister, cousin, everything one could wish for in family. She was his family when his family was not. That was why. He was just upset that he would potentially lose her. Of course that was why. He just was being childish. He should have realized that she would be swept away soon. Women did not have much choice in marriage, and it seemed as though Amirina would be no different.

Giving a sigh of relief, happy that his internal struggle was over, Jon slackened slightly. His shoulders relaxed and he leaned more into the pool, his neck now resting on the edge. He tilted his head back, happy to have figured everything out correctly.

But his content state was interrupted when he felt the sudden splash of water over his face. He opened his eyes and sat straight up, immediately staring at the only two culprits. And they pointed at one another.

"It wasn't me!"

They cried that in unison, giggling seconds after. Jon gave a cock of his eyebrow before striding over (the pool was shallow enough for him to stand with his upper chest out of the water).

"Now," he started, placing his hands on his hips, "who in their right mind did this?"

Amirina immediately pointed at Rickon, but this caused Jon to smile and lean towards his younger half-brother.

"How about, we splash Rina?" he offered, receiving a wild nod from the young pup. Jon sniggered and quickly started for Rina, grabbing her lightly and ordering for Rickon to splash her with water.

Their cries of laughter and joy were drowned out by the silence of the forest. And Jon couldn't hear a single thing except for the nagging in his stomach and the back of his mind as he spent time around Amirina Martell.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Thank you again to everyone for the love and support! We hit 108 favorites today! So to celebrate hitting over 100, I will be posting the next chapter by next Sunday. This chapter even came out quickly. Thank you all for keeping me motivated, I love you all. I'm in a better place right now thanks to all of you. I hope this fluff chapter (warning there will be quite a few for a while before the action picks up) made you all happy in some way. I hope I am portraying the awkward teenage phase correctly for Jon, because God is he hard to write. I hope you continue to read, review, and love. Thank you all again! Would love to hear your thoughts!_

 _Love,_

 _P_


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones…still_

* * *

It was merely a week before Amirina's nameday and Jon still had yet to plan something for her. He had already used the book idea three years ago. He could possibly copy down his own story? No, that would take too long to create well enough that she would find interest in it. He remembered how nervous he had been with the book. How he had ensured to carefully copy every story she had ever shown interest in. How he started it and restarted it three times just to get it right. How he bound it himself, learning with each mistake he made. But he made it all on his own. Luwin had complained to him once about the books she kept for too long (all in good jest he assumed). The maester has inadvertently led Jon to make the present, so in a way, Luwin had helped him.

Jon wondered if Rina still had the book. He never saw it with her. Of course, he hadn't been in her room since that visit, so perhaps she had it in there. Or maybe she got rid of it. Or maybe she lost it or it was forgotten. He hoped it was perhaps maybe losing it, or being in her room. Otherwise…it stung his heart just the slightest.

Jon sat atop his stallion, Winter, his brother next to him. He always wondered why he named the horse as such, and as he thought about it now, he realized how awful of a name that was for a strong male. He gave a chuckle at this realization but had to remember that he was around ten when he was gifted the colt from Ned. And any ten year old would name their horse Winter when living in the north.

"What's got you laughin'?" Robb asked, sitting on a chestnut gelding. Jon forgot his horse's name, but didn't pay much mind to it.

Jon just shook his head and shrugged, "Nothin' really. Just thinking. I was remembering a time when we were younger."

Robb raised an auburn eyebrow.

"Remember when Rickon was born?" Robb nodded, so Jon continued. "I remember Rina seeing him for the first time and she was absolutely terrified of 'im."

Jon truly hadn't been thinking about that, but it was something everyone in the family remembered and was an easy scapegoat for such a situation.

Robb gave a chuckle and shook his head in the affirmative. "She was shocked, wasn't she?" It wasn't as much a question, so much as it was a statement.

"She almost hurled him across the room," Jon said, finally remembering the actual memory.

Rina has not seen a babe since Bran's birth. Jon remembered she had been eight at that point. So it had been some time before Rickon's birth. And since then, she had no interactions with newly-born children. So when she had been handed Rickon at the young age of ten and three, Rina had freaked out and nearly dropped him. She believed him to look weird and she felt uncomfortable holding his small frame (he had been smaller than Catelyn and Luwin had hoped). It was one of the few moments Jon had been present for, and it was one of the funniest.

"Aye, she nearly killed him. Barely seen him for more than a few minutes, and she had almost been responsible for the newest Stark member's life," Robb laughed out, obviously replaying the images in his head.

Jon smiled then, cherishing the moment he was having with his brother. At the moment, they were on a hunt. Their father had wanted to bring Bran on his first hunt. Of course, he wouldn't actually do anything, but Ned wanted him to understand what happened, so that possibly he could go on the next few to get a grip of situations. The method had been used on both of the older boys and had turned out pretty well. Both were skilled enough with bows that they could hunt a doe or stag with some luck.

But due to such a weapon, it was one of the reasons their cousin was not there. For lack of a better term, Amirina was awful with bows. She could not shoot them to save her own life, and while Jon and Robb often jested with her about that, Jon couldn't help but worry about it. Bows were fairly useful. But she just couldn't understand it. She failed to hold it correctly. She failed to pull with enough strength to push the arrow through the target (if she lucked out enough to hit it). And her aim was gods-awful. Those paired with the fact that she was a girl didn't make for a suitable environment for her joining their monthly hunts.

"Can you believe it's been three years since then?" Robb suddenly asked.

Jon shrugged in response. "Sometimes I do. Other times…I struggle to realize how old we're getting," he answered truthfully. He didn't mind if it sounded mature; it was a fact. In a matter of time, Robb would be set up with a woman. He would become Lord of Winterfell. He would have children. And Jon? Jon would have no arranged wife. He would have no titles, nor claims. He would have no children. And it was because he was the bastard of Ned Stark.

"We have yet to reach twenty name days, brother," Robb replied flippantly, knowing it was a solid five years before that occurred. "If anyone is to be called old, it is Rina. She will be ten and seven soon enough."

Jon agreed then, not verbally however. A simple nod of his head was all he needed to convey his point. He still needed to figure out what he would present to her for her gift. He just wasn't sure how to do so nor with what.

"Have you gotten her a gift, Snow?"

Jon shook his head, "Not yet. I was not quite sure what to get her. She is difficult to gift."

Robb shrugged his shoulders and gave a slight grunt of affirment. "Don't I know," he muttered, "Sansa helped me with my gift, but I'm not sure she would like it. I have been looking at it every day, and every day it grows more and more tasteless."

Jon raised an eyebrow. "What did you get?"

Robb sighed, "A brooch."

It was at that moment that Jon knew how little Robb knew Rina. She had dozens of brooches, most from suitors who tried to win her favor. Some were from his family throughout the years, some from her uncle and cousins. Jon knew she was tired of receiving them. But he wouldn't say a thing to his half-brother. Instead, he would take interest in the topic.

"What does it look like?" he asked, trying to sound supportive.

Robb smiled then and looked over at Jon. "It's gold metal with the Martell sun and spear in the center and the Stark direwolf in the center of that sun," he described. "I reckon she'll fancy it."

Jon just smiled and nodded, truly finding the design interesting but knowing Rina would not fully want it. She wasn't materialistic in that way. She would love it for Robb but he knew she would not truly love it. She would respect him and wear it, but she would not want to. It was just how she was.

"What will you be gifting her?" Robb suddenly asked, calling for Jon's attention.

Jon looked up at the sky and answered truthfully, "I'm not quite sure. It's been difficult to find something she'll appreciate."

Robb chuckled then and rode closer to Jon, elbowing him in a playful way. "Is that why ya asked, brother? To steal my idea?"

Jon rolled his eyes but laughed, "Of course."

The two brothers shared a laugh, something that was hard to do as they grew older. Their minds were developing differently, as were their tastes in humor. Theon's influence on Robb showed through the latter's sense of often vulgar humor. Jon's bastardy and Amirina's influence have shined through in the quips of the Stark bastard. But they could still joke with one another, despite their developing differences.

They rode together for a few more minutes, occasionally making a few jokes or observations. But soon, the hunting horn was sounded, alerting the two eldest that game had been spotted. The brothers shared a glance before taking their bows off of their backs. They spurred on their steeds, following the sounds of whistles and hooves. Jon wasn't sure what kind of game they found, but it must have been either a stag or a bear.

Bears were difficult to hunt. They were large and hard to take down. Stags were difficult if you weren't good with a bow. If you were close enough, you could take one down with one arrow. But you couldn't risk being seen or you'd be on the receiving end of the antlers. Bears…you either had to have a large group or you had to be hidden within the brush and hope you took it down with a shot or two. Otherwise, the hunting turned on you.

Winter gave a whinny and stopped running, throwing his head back. Jon reacted in just enough time to barely hold onto his saddle. He tried shushing the horse, hoping he would calm down. His grey eyes searched around, trying to figure out what had spooked his horse. Winter stamped his hooves into the dirt, huffing and throwing his head around as if trying to display some form of dominance. Confusion ran through the Snow, as Winter had never acted in such a way. Not around bears. Not around stags nor does. Not around anything. He was a large male, he did not often need to worry about dominance.

The horse moved in both directions, trying to warn Jon of something, but the Snow had no clue as to what was producing such a reaction from the stallion. It seemed that none of the other horses felt in such a way, as they all seemed calm and carried on with their riders' biddings. Yet, Winter was losing his mind it seemed. Jon rapidly searched the surrounding foliage, shushing his horse and trying to calm him. He ran his gloved hands over his neck, patted the backs of his boots into the stifles, tightened the reins lightly. He did everything he was taught, yet nothing was working. And as he turned his head to search the other side, something caught his eye.

It was a mass. Nothing discernable really, but he knew it was a large black mass. It looked almost the size of a normal wolf, but the trees and brush didn't allow Jon to confirm it. He thought perhaps the mass was what was causing Winter's erratic behavior. And he was right, for a pair of yellow eyes stared right into Jon's own grey ones, causing Winter to give a sharp neigh and rear up.

Within a second, the mass was gone and Winter suddenly landed on all fours and calmed. It was as if the creature had never been there. Jon stared in disbelief at his horse and back at the foliage to his right. Despite his best judgements, Jon swung off of his horse and padded lightly over to the growth and forestry. He kept a firm grip on his bow in case he had to quickly use it, and he used it to slightly move the bushes. His grey eyes scanned the area with no luck as to finding what had been spooking his horse.

He was about to go back but something on the ground caught his eye. It was dark brown and obviously did not belong with the bright green of the grass. Jon bent down and retrieved it from the ground, holding it up for observation. It was curved, having a wide base and sharp point. It was a claw. A wolf's claw. It wasn't too large, leading Jon to believe it to be from one of the mountain breeds that often came down to mate in the beginning of the year. The forests around Winterfell often provided for ample breeding grounds during this time of year. It seemed as though it had been ripped from the paw of the wolf, as some blood was still visible on it, along with some fur and skin. He could always wash that off though.

It was then when the idea popped into his mind.

He would give Amirina the claw as her nameday gift. In what form? He was sure a necklace, but he would have to debate upon that and quickly. It came to him so suddenly, he had to take a moment to think it over. But it seemed as though it was just for the occasion. He and Robb had been talking about gifts. Winter was the only spooked horse. The claw seemed ripe for the taking. And the idea came from nothing. It was as if the gods had placed it there.

Jon wasn't very religious, but it was at this moment that he doubted his own thinkings…

"Jon!"

The boy in question turned around and stood, pocketing the claw quickly. "Yes?" he asked, wanting to know who called for him.

"You're going to cause us to miss the hunt, brother!" Robb called, as if running back to fetch Jon judging by the way his voice carried.

Jon didn't respond, he simply walked back over to Winter and climbed atop his saddle. He saw Robb a few feet ahead of him, obviously having turned back to grab him. He spurred Winter ahead, not looking back to the spot, yet feeling the weight of the trinket in his pocket.

As he rode to catch up, something gnawed at the back of his mind. When had he become separated from everyone else?

* * *

Amirina sat at her desk, staring absentmindedly at the papers upon it. They were all letters, the black handwriting crafted elegantly across the parchment. They were beautiful in a way of penmanship, but ugly in intention.

They were letters sent from Willas Tyrell.

Words of promise and wealth ran rampant yet empty. He wrote poems of grace and beauty. He assured that it would be a marriage of happiness, of love, and of promise. Yet, Amirina doubted every single word he wrote. She doubted that she would ever love him. And she promised herself that she would not.

The Martell girl picked one up in particular, one of the more recent ones. It was lengthy, a poem or two printed upon it. She read it over for what felt like the hundredth time:

 _My dear Amirina,_

 _I can not seem to describe how my heart yearns to meet you. I can not wait to finally place my hand upon your own and meet your eyes-_

Amirina wanted to gag at line. It was far too…romantic (yes, she loved romance, but not from a man who she had not yet met nor had any interest in).

 _-I hear of your beauty and heart quite a bit. I also have heard of your interest in sparring as your uncle has told me. My grandmother does not approve of such things, but she is not heir to Highgarden. When we marry, I will allow you to continue such activities as it pleases you-_

He would allow her? That didn't sit right with Rina.

 _-I will cherish every moment we spend together, and never fail to remind you of how much you mean to me. I hope we will meet soon, my dear Amirina. I patiently await such an event, as I am beyond overjoyed to have the pleasure of marrying such a woman as yourself. Your uncle has said such a meeting would occur soon-_

She couldn't read anymore of it. It was far too sweet and far too well-read. It was as if he had his grandmother, Lady Olenna Tyrell, whispering into his ear what to write. She wouldn't be surprised if that was true. Amirina has heard enough rumors about the Tyrell family to know that her assumption was more than likely fact. She was the bargaining chip for the two families. The history was ugly between Martell and Tyrell. Her father held no ill will towards Willas and vice versa after the tourney, but the rest of the families seemed to. She would become the peacemaker between the two. And Amirina Martell was not some pawn to make merry with.

"Aunt Cat?" Amirina asked quietly, entering her aunt's and uncle's room nervously.

She peered around the door, as it had been open, nervous to catch her relatives…indecent. But she was relieved to find her aunt sitting in a chair with a sleeping Rickon held against her bosom.

Catelyn turned towards Rina and gave a shocked look, but she quickly wiped it away and nodded her head in invitation. The Martell girl walked slowly towards her aunt and sat in the chair next to her. She wondered if Cat and Ned would sit by one another in front of the fire, conversing or enjoying the silence. It was calm and beautiful in a way, making envy bubble lightly under her surface.

"What troubles you, Rina?" Catelyn asked, her voice careful and quiet so as not to wake her son.

Rina stared at the crackling fire for a moment before sighing.

"What was it like?" she started, trying not to meet her aunt's Tully-blue eyes.

"What was what like?" Cat asked, her voice slightly confused.

Amirina then turned towards her young aunt and leaned her chin on her open palm. "Arranged marriage," she answered plainly.

Catelyn only sighed and nodded her head in understanding, as if she had been anticipating this talk for years. She turned her eyes towards the fire, entranced by the dancing colors as well. It was like the subject caused aversion.

"It's difficult," she stated, a plainness in her voice that worries Amirina. "You worry for moons and moons, never knowing if you will find happiness or love. You have to wait and be patient…quite a bit. You learn though, you truly do. Whether to love or hate them, it is up to you, but you learn either way."

Amirina nodded and slumped in her chair, disappointed by the answer.

"Who is it?"

"Willas Tyrell," Amirina answered without hesitation but not eagerly.

"Oh?" Catelyn asked, as if surprised by the choice. "And your father is allowing this?"

"My uncle is allowing it," Rina closed her eyes in frustration, "it does not matter what my father nor I allow."

Catelyn sat silent for a moment, the only sound being Rickon's deep breathing and the crackling of the flames. It was peaceful and almost helpful, but Amirina needed more.

"I wasn't supposed to marry Ned. It was supposed to be married to Brandon. Gods, we were betrothed even. But the Old had different plans and allowed Brandon to be burned by the king. So I was moved to be Eddard's wife. I wasn't happy, not a bit. I was practically a widow and already married off to a new man, a man I hardly knew. And then he goes off to war right after our wedding and leaves me here in the cold, pregnant. You can assume I was not happy. The poor Tully girl from the Riverlands, all alone in the cold and dark North. That's what I heard quite a bit. But then I had Robb, and I found happiness for a brief amount of time. Then your uncle comes home with a bastard of his own in his arms and victory painted all over his face. It took me a while to love him. It took work to love him, but I eventually fell in love with him.

"Your mother and father were arranged as well. Quite the age difference there. Almost the same as Ned's and mine own, but your mother was younger. Ten and three I believe. And she traveled further than I did from home. And she learned to love your father quickly, very quickly. She paid no mind to his whores and bastards before her. She said, 'I can not hate him for who he used to be. I could only hate him if he continued to be that man'. Or that's what Ned says at least. I admired her, for I could not do what she did. She was so open and loving, that it was no wonder your father fell in love with her the first time they met. That was another arranged marriage that not one person believed it would work, yet it did. Love bloomed in both."

Amirina sat in silence, amazed and dumbfounded by her aunt's openness. She appreciated it deeply however, and loved the fact that Catelyn trusted her enough to speak on such a subject.

"You could find love, Amirina," she shrugged, leaning back in her chair, "or you could find you harbor no feelings for the man. You could become friends and parade like a married couple. Or you could absolutely loathe him. You could end up like your mother and give the man a chance, or you could end up like the queen who apparently despises King Robert and lives in misery.

"It is your choice, my girl," Catelyn said, pity lacing her voice.

Amirina nodded and got up from her chair. She grasped her aunt's hand within her own. "Thank you, Aunt Cat," she said sincerely, a pained smile on her beautiful features. Her aunt only nodded her head, and Amirina took it as her leave.

She left the room and began walking. Rina wasn't really sure as to where she was heading, but her feet kept carrying her anyways. She was in a trance of sorts.

She would have to leave, she realized finally. The thought forced her to a halt, though she stopped only mentally. Her footsteps kept dragging. She would have to leave everyone. She would no longer see Rickon nor Bran. She would not be able to see Arya nor Sansa grow into women. She would not be able to see Robb become the Lord of Winterfell. And Jon…she would never see his grey, nearly black, eyes ever again. Even if she were to visit, he would most likely be gone. Perhaps to the Wall. Perhaps with a family outside of Winterfell. He would be gone. And…she never would get the chance to tell him-

She stopped in her tracks physically this time and looked around. She was standing in front of the heart tree. She could not believe how quickly she walked. Or perhaps, she was so absorbed by her own thoughts that she could not tell time. She must have looked like a ghost travelling through the Godswood, as she had no control over where she went and was walking aimlessly. But Amirina believed in the Gods Of Old; she believed they made everything happen for a reason. Nothing happened without such. So there must have been a reason she was there.

She knelt in front of the tree, trying to ignore how the face of the Weirwood tree stared at her, as if silently judging her. Amirina bent her head then and began praying; it was something she had not done in a long time. The last time had been with Jon, right after she had arrived. Since then, she had not been to the Godswood. Before that, it had been years since she last prayed. But she prayed now, and she prayed the gods would hear her.

She prayed that someone would stop what was to happen. She prayed that she would not have to leave the place she began to call home instead of a place she used to visit. She prayed for the old to watch over her and her cousins. She prayed for them all to be safe, to be happy, to have not one hair upon their head touched by anyone of malicious intent. She prayed for love. She prayed for her life to be happy, healthy, and one of good tidings. She prayed for her father and uncle. She prayed for her mother to continue finding peace wherever she walked. She prayed for her siblings to be warm and not cold like their bodies. She prayed for life to be good, and for the gods to protect everyone who was innocent.

The wind suddenly picked up and rustled the remaining leaves upon the heart tree. It was then that Amirina knew her prayer had at least been heard. She smiled lightly and when she went to open her eyes, she felt a presence behind her. But it was cold. Call her strange, but Amirina knew when a friend or family member was behind her. They were warm. The place behind her had grown cold and it was reaching towards her.

She did not know whether to look or to keep her eyes closed and stay facing the tree of worship. Her heart began racing and she felt the cold tickling her feet. She could not force herself to look, her mind was too fearful of what she would face.

Instead, she let the cold reach out to her, the feeling of fingers being placed upon her shoulder. At first it was gentle, as if it was a loving grasp. Familiar almost. Yet that quickly changed. The cold fingers dug into her shoulder, a cry trying to escape her lips. Yet they felt frozen shut. And she tried to turn but her bones and muscles felt solid like ice. She could not open her eyes, as those too were shut from the cold. She felt like a statue, frozen in place and trapped within her body.

Amirina then felt a breath upon her neck, a cold and harsh one that raised every hair and forced a violent shiver through her. Suddenly the breath was by her ear and a phrase was whispered. Then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. The cold had receded.

Rina felt the warmth return to her body and she took the opportunity to swing around. Her chest rose and lowered quickly, her breath coming out in pants. Her heart raced and her dark eyes were wide with fear. Yet, as she looked behind her, nothing stood behind her. There wasn't even any evidence as to something being behind her. Amirina immediately stood and began to leave, ignoring the look of the face carved upon the Weirwood tree. The way the eyes almost knew as to what had happened. The way the mouth was open as if whispering. The way there was a slight bit of ice upon the pond in front of the tree. Or even the way Amirina's breath came out in light wisps, as if the temperature was freezing.

She was too focused on the words that kept playing over and over again in her head:

 _"Youna chiema ca'lyet."_

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Thank you to everyone as always. A twist at the ending for everyone. And before y'all go thinking Rina has powers…she doesn't. I'm putting that out there now because it's a cliche that's been used a lot and one I find annoying kind of. She is not a warg nor possesses the greensight nor anything "magical". That doesn't mean she can't be affected by that kind of stuff however. So we'll see ;) But both characters experiencing some spooky stuff (lol Halloween reference even though it's late)_

 _Also! Her nameday is coming up next chapter! Or the one after…or perhaps in two chapters. Not really sure yet. It might be split into two chapters. I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts as always! Thank you all so much!_

 _ANd has anyone seen Thor:Ragnorak? It was amazing!_

 _Love,_

 _P_

 _ **jokergirl2001** : Haha, no he truly doesn't. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Anonymous** : Well thank you love! And both of those ideas will most likely not be used, though it would make everyone's story much easier, don't ya think? Thank you for the love!_

 _ **Guest** : Here's more darling! Hope you enjoy it!_


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N:** This will be quite the chapter, as it covers seven days. The nameday celebration will start next chapter. Sorry for the long wait as well, just tried to give you guys a long and good chapter._

 _Disclaimer: I still don't own GOT or ASOIAF_

* * *

 _It was cold. Very cold. Snow fell from the sky and laid upon the dying grass. The sky was sad, as the grey clouds came rumbling in and blocking the sun's full light. The wind whipped through the air, stinging all that it slashed. It was as if a winter had finally come. Not one as of the Long Night children were told of, but of just winter. The cold air. The snow. The darkness of the sky. It was what one imagined when told that winter had come._

 _Amirina could not comprehend what was happening. The landscape had popped up as a winters forest, yet she swore she had never seen such a thing before. How could she possibly know what one would look like? And another strange thing…how could she tell she was dreaming?_

 _She looked up to the sky and lifted her hand, reaching towards the descending flakes of ice. She felt the cool presences touch her skin one by one, sitting for a moment before liquefying. Amirina giggled slightly and pulled her hand down. She gave a smile towards the sky and breathed deeply, the fresh scent of fir trees invading her senses._

 _"Rina?"_

 _The girl in question turned around. She cocked an eyebrow. A man stood before her, his face slightly fat from age. His greying hair was pulled back from his face, yet the back was let go. It wasn't long, but it was enough. He had stern oak brown eyes, similar to those of her Uncle Ned's. His face was similar to her uncle's as well. But she had never met the man before and wondered why he called her name._

 _"What're you doing out here? It is too cold for you," he reprimanded her, his thin lips set in a line._

 _Amirina went to speak but was stunned when a girl, probably only ten and twelve in age, walked right past her._

 _The girl had dark curls just like Rina, yet they were about wavier. Her skin was pale, and her face young. Her eyes were a hazel brown. She was cute, and Rina couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity._

 _"Sorry, father. I just wanted to see the snow," the girl said quietly, her head down._

 _The man, her father, gave a small tilt of his lips. He knelt down to the ground, his fur cape falling with him. He was eye-level with her at this point, as the girl was small and he was large._

 _"My dear daughter," he spoke softly, grabbing her chin and lifting it so he could meet her eyes. "You must stay well, my girl. You shall be leaving soon and I can not lose you any sooner to the cold. For the winter is…"_

 _"Unforgiving and cares not for who you are," the girl finished, giving a small smile. "I know father. You've told me many, many times."_

 _The man gave a chuckle and stood. "I was simply making sure, silly girl. You seem to come to the snow despite that warning. I can't help but think you've forgotten," he said, pulling the small girl to his side. He ruffled her hair and she gave a cry of surprise. The two then laughed cheerfully._

 _Amirina smiled at the scene, knowing it was sweet. She didn't know who they were, but they were sharing a cute moment, and Amirina could appreciate that. But a frown quickly overtook her features when a burst of cold wind pushed past her. The memory of what had happened shivered down her spine._

 _Amirina quickly realized that the wind had pushed past her and towards the pair. She quickly gave a "No!" and reached her arm out, hoping to stop the wind from reaching the father and daughter. She may not understand what the wind meant, but she knew it couldn't mean anything good. Nothing good came from the cold._

 _But the wind quickly dispersed and the girl turned around, as if she had felt the gust of cold air. Amirina breathed heavily, her fingers curling into her palm. The young girl cocked an eyebrow and seemed to narrow her hazel eyes. But a stern "Rina, come" forced the girl to shrug and turn back around to walk with her father._

 _And Amirina was stuck. Alone once more in the ever quickening snow. Nothing but wind whipping through her hair._

* * *

Amirina flew up into sitting position from her furs. Sweat dripped from her hairline and she could feel her night dress sticking to her back like a second skin. Her hair felt damp and she immediately threw the furs away from her body and towards the foot of the bed. A shiver ran through her due to the cold in the room, as her fire had extinguished some time in the night. Hurriedly, she escaped her bed and knelt by the cobblestone arch. She placed some fresh wood into the hearth and grabbed two stones. Rina did her best to rub them harshly against one another, striking sparks into the pit. Soon, one hit the logs and quickly ate at the fresh wood.

Rina smiled at her handiwork and rubbed her hands over her biceps, a chill still haunting her. The dream was fading from her memory as she stood by the fire, and soon it became nothing in her mind. The chill left her just as quickly, and Amirina looked out the window.

The sky was grey today, clouds rolling in from the north. Amirina smiled at the image, as she always did love cloudy days when up in Winterfell. Sure, she much preferred Dorne's sun over Winterfell's snow, but she didn't mind a few cloudy days or two. The sun was rising from the eastern side and Rina could tell she had woken up early. She didn't mind however, as if gave her a quicker start on the day.

Amirina discarded her night dress and gave a sigh of relief at not having the soaked vestment clinging to her skin any longer. She threw the item into the basket of used clothing, not looking back. Rina knew that a bucket of water had been left overnight due to her not wishing for her handmaids to pick it up. She had wanted it to wash away the feelings that had overcome her yesterday. It worked out perfectly because she need some cold water to fully wash away the sweat.

The bucket was still fairly full, so Amirina dumped it into the basin she called a bathing tub. It wasn't as deep as the one she had at home, but Rina knew that the Starks weren't as lavish as they were down in Sunspear. Gods, Amirina's tub was like a pool. She gave a smile at the thought of the warm waters heated by the sun, and the depth and room that allowed for practically swimming and relaxing. It was heavenly. But Amirina would take what she got. When sweaty, she didn't really mind what she was bathing in.

The Martell stepped delicately into the tub, shivering when the cold temperature shook her body. This would be a quick bath.

Amirina stayed in her room after that. Her maids had come in and she quickly ordered them to fetch her food to break her fast, and to quickly change her furs. The sweat had clung to the materials, and Amirina despised the smell of it. So she asked for the retrieval of new ones and could automatically smell the difference. The furs smelled fresh, as if they had just been washed in the basins.

She grabbed one from her bed and sat in the rocking chair that was in front of the fire. Rina pulled the blanket over her body and just sat there, admiring the fire for a second. She loved the way the orange and red danced with one another, locked in an ongoing waltz that would have no end until they burned away at their dance floor.

Giving a sigh, she pulled her book out from under the fur and placed it upon her lap over the blanket. She leaned back in the chair and opened it, turning to the story of Aegon's Conquest. Once again, she was entranced by the tales of dragons among men.

* * *

 _Amirina found herself in the snowy forest once again. She looked around and found that the landscape had not really changed. There might have been a few more trees this time around, but generally the same image._

 _Rina admired the scenery but quickly became alert, as she knew something would happen once more. This time, she wanted to be alert to what was happening. She wanted to try and make sense of what was happening. And the event occurred soon after._

 _This time, the girl was back, yet she seemed older, perhaps by a year or so. Her hair was still the wavy curls and her hazel eyes were the same. However, her body seemed to start to fill out and her face started to thin it seemed. She must have just recently had her first moon blood. Her skin was still pale, yet a bit of a tan seemed to be upon her skin? Almost as if she had spent some time down south. Otherwise, she looked fairly similar to last time._

 _The girl was accompanied by someone. A boy to be precise. He looked similar in age to the girl, yet contrasted starkly in appearances. The boy was taller, much too tall for a boy of his age. He had the beginnings of a muscular build, probably due to working in sparring as most young men did. His hair was a chestnut brown and he was a tanned color, not due to ethnicity but more so due to location. He was more than likely from around the south or river lands. That was just her assumption. Amirina had to admit that he was cute for a young boy._

 _"So…" the girl started, an expectant tone to her voice, "you fancy her?"_

 _The boy gave a wide smile, oblivious to the hurt Amirina saw on the young girl's face._

 _"Aye! I do! Lord Jon said that when I grow older, I may marry her! If your father permits, of course," he stated, excitement growing continuously within him._

 _Amirina watched with pity as the girl's features sagged slightly in disappointment, as if her heart throbbed from his exclamation. And it probably did, judging from how her disposition changed in a second. Rina wanted to reach out and envelop the girl in a large and tight hug full of warmth._

 _"I see," she commented, looking down to the snow._

 _The boy nodded with a smile and stared dreamily up to the sky, enraptured by an image perhaps._

 _To perhaps try and cause some form of jealousy, the young girl suddenly said, "I'm to be married in a few moons!"_

 _The boy snapped from his daze and rose an eyebrow. "Is that so, Ri? The gods must feel tremendously sorry for you, so they're sticking some poor soul with you," he teased, elbowing her slightly. Ri rolled her eyes and pushed her companion._

 _"Actually, Rob, he asked for my hand!" Ri retaliated with, crossing her arms and holding a smug smile. "So it is I who is stuck with the tortured soul by the gods!"_

 _Rob chuckled and gave a psh, as if disbelieving of her comments. "I'll believe it when I see it, Ri," he laughed out, throwing an arm around her in brotherly fashion. This seemed to hurt Ri more than Rob could tell, as her eyes suddenly dropped and a glassy appearance coated over them._

 _"How long will you be here for?" she asked suddenly, a hopeful gleam in her hazel eyes._

 _Rob shrugged and looked around at the scenery, "Your brother and I will be here until Lord Jon leaves. When that happens, we will once again leave with him and continue to learn under him. But, I'm not quite sure as to when that is to happen."_

 _Amirina watched as the girl nodded, thankful for an unknown amount of time that could possibly be long. It could be short as well, but Rina felt that the girl assumed a longer period of time. Her heart hurt for her, but she knew that the girl would probably get over it seeing as how she was to be married soon. Or at least she hoped she would get over it soon. It was something Rina had to learn herself._

 _Rob then took his arm back and gave Ri a smile. "Last one to the stables is a…kraken!" He had paused a minute to try and think up something creative and lowly, and apparently a kraken was the best he could do. Amirina chuckled at that and watched as the young boy began running in the direction of the stables. The girl gave a huff of surprise before running after him._

 _This time, Amirina noticed the wind had cooled and picked up more than ever._

* * *

The next two days went by rather uneventfully. Amirina had had her nameday dress fitted. She also had had some planning finished up. But other than that? She didn't have time for much else. The dress was something she rather liked, but she wanted something different. She had it retailed and had extra details sewn in. It was an off the shoulder down with fur along the top hemline. The sleeves were long and tight to her skin, ending right before her hands. The bodice was tight as well, hugging her like a second skin. Her breasts were pushed up slightly, enough to make it seem as if she had more than she really did. The bodice had a strip down the middle that was paler than the rest of the deep ocean blue dress. It had lace strands that crossed across one another down the strip. The gown flared out at the top of her hips but wasn't too much. There was a line of pale blue gems that lined the hip line, traveling up on her hips but low on the front and back of the dress. It was a smaller gown, as it had a ballroom feel but was slimmed down considerably. There was pale blue lace at the bottom that made up small flower designs. Overall, it was a beautiful dress, and Amirina was happy with it. She had thanked her aunt for the dress, as it was her nameday gift as always from the Tully woman.

Amirina had also planned with Catelyn. Because it was ten and seventh nameday, Amirina was allowed to steer the reins for a lot of it. Catelyn still had tight control, but allowed for Rina to change as she wished with consideration. For example, Amirina wanted for dancing to occur most of the night, when normally, people would eat and then dance. But she wanted people to be free to do as they pleased. She thought it would be more fun. She also wished for gifts to be privately given, as she didn't want any jealousy or make it too much about who got her the best gift.

Those two events took up two days respectively, and distracted Amirina from her strange dreams. Nothing had happened in her dreams out of the ordinary. The third night, she had seen a strange scene of a girl and a man, standing opposite of one another, saying what appeared to be vows. The wind had been cold then as well. The fourth night had been the girl crying in pain as she appeared to be birthing a child, but the wind had been absolutely freezing. But that was it. She saw no faces nor heard any true words. Just shadows and whispers. She brushed it off as her imagination.

Amirina shook her head with a smile. Her dreams were a figment of her overactive imagination. She was simply eating something too soon before bed, and she brushed it off as that. There wasn't anything to it, she believed.

Amirina moved to turn around to change into her shift for the night but something suddenly stung on her left shoulder. She grasped at it and gave a cry of pain. The sudden burning pain was excruciating, as if a flame was being held to her skin. Her teeth ground upon one another to silence her cries. Amirina hurriedly ripped at her dress, pulling it off of her shoulders. She felt her shoulder then, quickly trying to feel what was causing such pain. Her fingers stopped suddenly. There were rushed upon her once-smooth flesh. Amirina looked around her room, trying to find a mirror, but was confronted with no such luck. The pain hit her once again and she grit her teeth. It felt as though someone was digging their nails into it now…

Amirina's eyes widened then. The memory of five days prior hit her like a storm. The icy hand upon her shoulder. The whisper in her ear. The cold that plagued her. Rina felt someone watching her then. She turned around quickly, her eyes searching around her. There was no one. No one but her.

"It's my mind," she told herself aloud. "Just my mind."

The Martell quickly changed into her slip, a chill suddenly hitting her skin. As soon as she could, she laid in her bed and closed her eyes.

* * *

 _Amirina was somewhere different than any other time now. She was in a room. A lavish room decorated with fine metals and red colors. The way that the air smelled made Amirina realize how close to the ocean she was. The salt that she grew up with was hitting her with a force of memory. It made her smile lightly._

 _She didn't admire the room much however, as she was drawn to two people talking. Amirina turned around and saw two people sitting upon a bed, a man and a woman. The woman had long wavy hair that shined a chestnut brown in the light. The man however, had lighter hair, blond really. His face was sculpted, and quite handsome and young. He had sea green eyes that could make any woman swoon. And he wore nothing but a pair of trousers, showing his extremely…well-defined torso and arms. The woman was in a slip, nothing more, nothing less. Her skin was pale and she had hazel eyes. But she seemed sad. And the man seemed to be comforting her._

 _"I saw him with her," the woman said, her voice trembling. "She's been there the whole time…"_

 _"Rina," he said, a disappointed look in his green eyes. "You can not feel guilty if he has done the same to you."_

 _The woman, who Amirina assumed was named Rina and was the girl she had dreamt of for a few nights, looked up at the man opposite her and frowned. "Guilt can still plague me whether it creeps upon him or not. I made a vow to him in front of the gods. And I've broken them."_

 _The man pulled her closer to him, his hand resting on her hip and the other cupping her face. He forced her to look into his eyes; green clashing against hazel brown. "And he made vows to you as well. And he broke them long before you did. You know. He does not. It is fine, my love," the man comforted, trying his best to sway the woman._

 _"But-"_

 _The man shushed her, placing his lips upon her own. Amirina watched as tears trickled down the woman's face, slowly and in few numbers. It was as if she was too hurt to focus on the man in front of her. The couple shared a moment before pulling away and placing their foreheads against one another._

 _"I have to leave for King's Landing today. It shouldn't be more than a few days. Once it is over, I will return to you. You will be safe, my love. I promise you. You and your children," he said, his eyes staring into her own. Amirina could see the sincerity of his words and her heart ached suddenly. It was as if she could feel that something wasn't right with the situation._

 _The woman smiled sadly, "And then what? What will we do when you return for me?"_

 _The man smiled and placed a kiss upon her forehead. "We shall run away and you will become my wife. We will have our own children and I will raise your's as if they were mine own. We will live wherever they can not find us and we will love one another," he said, a genuine image playing in his mind. She could tell because of how invested he sounded. It made her smile. It seemed as though he truly loved her._

 _"Alright," she nodded, a hesitant smile upon her full lips. "Return to me and we can leave. We will leave everyone."_

 _The two stood and the man wrapped his one arm around her, his other wrapping into her long hair. He kissed her passionately, forcing Amirina to look away. It may be a dream, but she still felt uncomfortable._

 _She turned around when she heard something._

 _"I must tell you something," the woman whispered quietly. Her head was down then, making her seem smaller than she was when compared to the tall handsome man. "I believe…I-"_

 _The man gave a quiet shush to her and reached down to her stomach, his fingers splayed out across her belly. "No worries, my love, I could tell. You spoke not of bleeding since we first made love. I assumed this was so," he said, a wide smile on his lips. He then gave a teasing grin, "You've also grown larger since I last laid eyes upon you and your beauty."_

 _He rubbed a thumb across her cheek, his eyes enraptured by her beauty. Amirina had to admit that the two of them made a beautiful couple and she couldn't help but hope they ended up together in the end._

 _"I must go now, my love. I shall see you soon. When this is over, I shall be your's and you shall be mine," he promised, placing a quick kiss to her lips before going to a different room. The woman smiled and looked down, most likely at her stomach. She placed a hand upon it and with studying, Amirina could tell the woman was pregnant. Her belly was protruding just enough at the middle and bottom to give reason to believe so._

 _And suddenly, a strong cold wind blasted through a window and froze Amirina to her core. She no longer wanted the pregnant woman alone._

* * *

It was one day until Amirina's ten and seventh nameday. She couldn't help but bounce around on her feet every second. She was allowed no free time and was currently in the Great Hall, pointing as to where she wanted certain things to go. She had a few tables pushed to the outside of the middle, making room for a large amount of dancing space. She pointed out a few banners that she wished to have highlighted, one of which Catelyn had made. The tapestry was beautiful and Catelyn never got enough credit for it. So, Amirina wanted to highlight its beauty by placing it on one of the columns. The food had been handpicked by Amirina as well, with the help of Catelyn. The two decided on a venison and rabbit stew, of which the men had gotten the meat from the hunt almost a week ago. There would also be a few dozen kidney pies, large enough for people to take a slice if they so wished. There would be honey cakes, lemon cakes (requested by Sansa), candied almonds, and gingerbread. Amirina thought it was a good spread of dishes for the night.

"Amirina." the girl in question turned around, curious as to who had called her name.

Behind her was Robb. He stood with his hands behind his back as if hiding something. His eyes were tilted down slightly, yet he seemed not as nervous as his body language gave away.

"Nadia, take these over to the fourth table upon the left side, please," she quickly handed a set of materials to the maid, before walking over to Robb.

He was taller than her now, yes, but her age made her feel as though she was bigger than he. In maturity, she was, just not in height. "What is the matter, young wolf?" she asked curiously, placing a hand on his bicep, trying to meet his eyes.

Robb took a breath and motioned for her to follow him. She shrugged mentally and complied to his silent request, hoping it would cause for him to open up about what bothered him so.

The two walked over to a side hallway, the area quiet from the bustling of men and women in the Great Hall. Amirina was leaning against the wall and Robb stood in front of her. His hands were still behind his back and Amirina knew something was up. He pulled one hand up brush his auburn curls back, yet still kept one hand behind him. Rina cocked an eyebrow and tried to look around him, but he turned so she could not see. She leaned back and crossed her arms.

"Come now Robb, what is it?" she asked, an eyebrow raised. "I have no time for games at the moment."

Robb sighed, "I-I uh…" He wasn't quite sure how to speak it seemed, and Amirina's demeanor softened then. "I uh, I wanted to uh…Gods."

She placed a hand on his cheek in comfort, feeling him lean into her touch. She thought nothing of her he closed his eyes and let out a silent pleases breath. She was clueless as to how she affected him. "You don't have to tell me, Robb," she said in a comforting manner, a soft smile upon her lips.

"I do though, Amirina," he said after a moment. He then took a deep breath and forced his cheek from her palm, as if it pained him to do so. "I uh…I don't have many problems when speaking to beautiful women," he started, rubbing the back of his neck. It caused Amirina's cheeks to burn and for her to turn her head downwards. She never really got true compliments like that, but she appreciated the comment either way (unable to understand the context behind it).

"But…um. I wanted to say that I wished to…uh. I wished to give you your gift now. Mother said you wished for your gifts to be given in private, so I wanted to give it to you now," he explained.

Amirina nodded and watched as he pulled his hand from his back. There was a small wooden box enclasped by his fingers. He opened them to reveal the clean spruce wood that hid something from her eye. He motioned for her to take it, of which she did. The small box was smooth to the touch and Amirina admired the craftsmanship. She only took a second to do so before she opened the box, looking into it with curiosity.

Inside was a gold brooch. But it wasn't a plain one like most suitors gifted her with. In fact, she rather liked the design and simple beauty of this one. There was a Martell sun and spear but over that was a Stark direwolf snarling. There were no extra gems or anything. Just the metal, and she appreciated the rare simplicity of it. While she had far too many brooches to count, she rather liked this one. She would actually wear it a few times.

Amirina smiled and spoke softly, "It's beautiful, Robb." She closed the box and held it with one hand. Her free hand placed itself upon his shoulder as she stood on the balls of her feet. Her lips placed an amicable kiss upon his cheek and she whispered, "Thank you, cousin."

Amirina pulled back and smiled up at the ten and five year old. Something was in his eyes but Amirina paid no mind to it. She never caught those small things. Robb smiled down at her as she left back to her duties, the girl unaware of how his eyes trailed her.

* * *

 _Amirina was once again, in a new place. However, this time, the girl she had been following was not there. Instead, it was the blond man once more and an old man. The old man was obviously a maester, as he held chains around his necks and body. He must have been one of those grand maesters Amirina heard about, the ones who knew everything. The old man was looking at a text in front of him while the younger man stood with an anxious tension in his bones._

 _"You can annul the marriage, correct?" the young man asked, running a hand through his blond locks._

 _The old man raised a hand, shushing the younger one for a moment, before sighing. "I can. Her husband must be knowing of such a thing, however," the man stated finally, looking up to the blond._

 _The younger one gave a huff of frustration, "He annulled their marriage when he fucked another woman." The way he said it made Amirina flinch. It was as if he felt so…angry and hurt by someone doing such a thing. But it was perhaps due to loving the woman so intensely, that he grew angry at a man disrespecting her as such. "She shall be wed to me and our child shall not be born a bastard," he stated, his voice harsh and given with a tone of finality._

 _"You are but a boy-" the man tried to say._

 _"I am ten and seven. She is twenty. Do you think I am a child? Who cares if she be three years older? I love her. I truly do. More than anyone in the world, I love her. I am no boy. I am a man. I have killed other men. Do not dare to think you may call me a child," he said, venom dripping from his words. Amirina shivered as the room grew gradually colder._

 _The old man was silent for a second, grabbing a feather and some parchment. He started to write, the air growing colder than ever before. Amirina moved to stand behind the old man and inspect what he was writing. It was too murky for her eyes to fully make out, but it seemed as though it was to someone powerful, as she could see the words, 'your son' 'annulment' 'leave position'. She looked up at the blond man and saw that he had no idea as to what the older one was writing._

 _"When did you meet this woman?" the old man asked suddenly, no doubt going to write down anything he could._

 _The blond man was silent, a small smile appearing on his lips. "I first saw her at the tourney for the birth of Viserys Targaryen. I was still a boy, only ten namedays past. She was beautiful though. She and her sister were invited to attend, as they were beautiful girls. Her sister held every mans' heart, but I could not see why. I saw the why in the older one, the one I love. She was beautiful beyond measure. I figured out her name through other young boys, as they were infatuated with the two. Their brothers, on the other hand, were not so excited. I remember one of them nearly breaking a boy's arm because he held the younger one's hand. I became…" he paused for a moment, searching for the right word, "obsessed, you may call it. I wanted to know her. I forgot about anyone else and focused solely on her. Every tourney I went to, I asked for her._

 _"She was at Harrenhal. It had been the first time I laid eyes upon her in years. And gods…" he closed his eyes at the memory, "gods I wanted her to be mine. But I had made a promise to someone and I was upholding it. It was like seeing her made everything rush back to me. That obsession. Everything I wanted. It all came back. I approached her after the tourney, a time when her husband was away. I introduced myself, and we talked for some time. We talked for far too long, but neither of us minded. She spoke of how many children she had. She spoke of her life as a child. She spoke of who she was. And not once that entire night did she speak of her husband. I kissed her that night. I promised her love if she would have it. She agreed. She wanted to get away from a marriage she had been disillusioned from."_

 _"When did you see her next?" the old man asked, genuine curiosity in his voice._

 _The man turned to face him then, a look in his sea-green eyes. "After I had been sent to King's Landing. I thought it to be the worst thing in the world. But by fate, she was sent there as well. Of course, her husband went along with her, but I still was able to lay my eyes upon her. They were visiting the queen, a woman who my love was close to. And they were also visiting the princess, the prince's wife. Her husband spent a lot of time with the wife and that left her open for my taking. I stole her away during the day. We would walk, and talk, and eventually, we would make love in secret, when neither of us were needed. I loved her and she loved me, and nothing shall change that."_

 _"What of when she left?"_

 _The man smirked, "I left my mark on her. She wrote me as much as she could. She began to visit as much as she could, using the excuse of meeting with the queen. Of course, that woman knows. She even accepts and encourages us. She gave me the idea to annul the marriage. My love was recently moved to a safe place, keeping her from the eyes of those who wish to hurt her. When this rebellion is over, she and I will be wed."_

 _The old man wrote some other things down before sighing. "You act like a man, yet you have the mind of a selfish boy," he said, his tone grave and serious._

 _"Don't try to criticize me, old man," the blond hissed. "I know what I'm doing. I will do as I must, and I will marry her."_

 _The old man shrugged and rolled the piece of parchment, the ink letters of betrayal dried. He wrapped it and stood slowly from his seat, handing it to a raven that was specialized for a certain location. To where? Amirina knew not of. But she could tell it wouldn't be good._

 _And quicker than lightening strikes, the room turned blue from the cold, and Amirina could see her breath._

* * *

"Rina wake up!"

"Rina, open your eyes."

"Come now, Ri, wake up."

Amirina woke with a start, her breath heavy and her eyes wide. She sat up quickly and saw Jon sitting by her side, lines of worry etched into his skin. Amirina felt the freezing cold sweat dripping from her hairline and making her slip stick to her back. Jon felt her forehead with the back of his hand suddenly, not caring about the sweat.

"Gods, Rina, you're burning," he said, his eyes wide. Amirina still was fighting the sleep that wished to take her, so she was a bit out of it. "Let's get you into the bath. You're sweating more than a pig in summer," he muttered, picking her up bridal-style. Amirina laid her head against his chest, her body freezing but sweating.

He walked over to the bathing room, an area separated by a wall, and set Amirina down for a second. Jon ran a hand through his dark curls, stress prominent in his body language. "Warm water, right?" he seemed to ask himself, unsure of how to take care of someone who was sick. But Amirina appreciated the effort nonetheless. She sat there for a few moments, as Jon hurried out of the room to fetch a pail of water. She just sat there, unmoving, frozen either by the cold or her mind or the searing pain on her shoulder. But her body felt numb. Her mind raced and her body felt numb. It was far too much for her to comprehend at the moment. That man in her dream…he…he seemed so familiar. The story he told of his lover…it seemed far too close-

Jon rushed in, interrupting Amirina's thoughts, a large bucket in his hand. He poured the water into the bathing tub, careful not to waste any of the lukewarm liquid. He set the pail down and turned to Amirina, lifting her to her feet. Amirina was slightly confused as to why Jon was worrying so much. It was like his own mind was racing and he wasn't quite sure how to react. But Amirina was far too absorbed in her own thoughts to think about it much further.

"Rina," he said carefully, "I'm going to need you to uh…I'm going to need you to take…take your slip…off." His cheeks burned red and his eyes looked anywhere but at Rina. The girl just chuckled lightly and did as she was told, slipping the thin straps off of her shoulders and letting the thin material fall to the ground. Her body felt much more free after that, the soaked slip having made her feel slightly trapped. Jon then looked up, avoiding seeing her body as best he could.

"Alright, uh," he started, closing his eyes tightly, facing her. "Let's uh, let's get you into the bath. And uh…let's…let's clean you up," he stuttered out, his cheeks red and the tips of his ears matching.

He held her elbow and around her waist to ensure she didn't fall over just in case. He helped her into the bath as best he could, avoiding touching her body too much now. The poor boy was dying from embarrassment, but said nothing. He just helped. It was what made him a man, to Amirina of course. She thought that if a boy could help a woman without paying mind to her body, he was a man. And while Jon shied away from her nudity, he still helped her.

Amirina sat in the tub, leaning her head back against the lip of the bath. Her hair fell in curls over the edge, the roots slightly damp, but drying from the lack of being bunched up on a pillow. Her cold body welcomed the warmth of the water and allowed her tense muscles to unknowingly relax.

Rina heard Jon take a stool and situate it behind her, right across from her hair. He took her thick hair into his hands and began meddling with it, twisting it around in various ways. "You know how to braid?" Amirina asked, feeling such a sensation from his hands in her hair.

"Arya forced me to learn how to," he mumbled, obviously embarrassed by being able to do so.

Rina gave a quiet laugh, her eyes closed and body relaxing. The dream slowly leaving her mind. The cold leaving her gradually as well. She smiled at the peace that now encompassed her body, tendrils of heat enveloping her slowly. Gods, she loved it.

"What were you dreaming of, Rina?" Jon asked quietly, sensing her wants for peace and quiet.

"I can't even remember," she said, as if in a daze. She couldn't see it, but Jon stole a glance at her, his eyebrow cocked and his eyes accidentally wandering. He shook his head, forcing his eyes back to the task of her hair.

"You were crying. I was walking past, as Robb and I were to spar today, and I heard you crying. I entered and saw you asleep, struggling with your furs and sweating beyond belief," he spoke slowly, as if in disbelief of what he witnessed.

Amirina raised a hand and waved the concern away. "It was simply a nightmare, Jon, no worries. Thank you though," she said, opening her eyes and looking up at him. Jon looked down right at the exact moment she looked up, and the two just stared for a moment. Oak searched storm grey. Amirina's lips parted slightly, as if to say something, but words could not form. She was almost entranced by the way his eyes appeared to her. The way that a slight hint of purple hid within those dark grey eyes. The way he simply stared, as if also stuck within the moment with her. But she saw a storm inside of his eyes. A storm of emotions. As to why that was occurring, she could not say why. But there was one twisting and turning. Amirina just wished she could figure out what it was. She felt his fingers slacken in their duty to braid, and she felt the coolness of his breath hitting her slightly. Gods, he was attractive.

Amirina snapped out of it with that thought, knowing she had to force herself to stop being distracted by him. She blinked and reached to her side, grabbing the bar of soap to wash herself. Jon took a moment to resume his task, his fingers quickly picking up what they had left unfinished. Amirina sucked in a breath, mentally berating herself for getting into such a position. She was naked, in a bath, Jon behind her, braiding her hair. It was an intimate situation that only a woman and her husband should be in. But did that make her force Jon away? No. She would let him leave when he wished to.

She quickly washed her body with the soap, trying to finish the process as quickly as she could. Amirina finished and reached over, placing the soap from where it came, leaning back into the water. She didn't want to lose the warmth she was being given, but she did want to get out, as she felt her fingers prune.

"Jon."

"Hmm?"

"I need to get out," she said quietly, the duo distracted by their own thoughts.

"Oh," Jon said, his fingers ceasing with the finished work just in time. "Of course. Do you need help?" His voice sounded strained.

"Yes, please," Amirina said, her voice quiet and slightly embarrassed.

Jon stood from the stool and grabbed a towel (much like towels today, but softer and larger). He set it on the stool and placed his hands in front of Amirina. She took them and watched as Jon closed his eyes, somewhat blindly helping her step out of the bath. He turned his head to the side, grabbing the towel and making sure his eyes didn't land on her body. She quietly thanked him and wrapped it around herself, almost like a cloak, covering everything from view. Jon turned back to face her, relief clear in his dark eyes (and if Amirina studied them, she recognized how much darker they appeared).

He found her elbow underneath the towel and held onto it, making sure the material stayed between them. His other hand held her waist and helped to guide her back onto her bed.

"Will you be alright if I leave?" he asked, looking out the window instead of at her.

"Yes," she answered, looking down at the ground, avoiding his eyes if he looked over. She pulled the towel around her tighter, trying to get any warmth from it if possible. "Thank you."

"Of course, Rina. What are cousins for?" he said, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to brush of the embarrassment he felt so vividly.

Amirina gave a chuckle, "Not seeing one another naked, I would hope."

Jon gave a strained chortle, obviously struggling with what had happened. But in his mind he was backing it with the fact that he didn't like her like that. She was his cousin and all he did was help her out. That's all that happened. It was fine. Everything was fine. Nothing wrong happened. He was worried for her and that was that.

"Make sure you see Maester Luwin before the celebration," Jon said, finally facing her once again. He gave a small smile and placed his hands behind his back. "I don't want you to fall ill before your nameday celebration."

Amirina nodded and smiled back up at him. "Thank you, Jon. I appreciate it," she said sincerely, ending the conversation silently. Jon nodded and began walking to the door. He opened it and paused, as if he was going to speak, but he soon walked out and shut the door behind him, leaving Amirina to her tumultuous thoughts.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Ahhh this was quite the long one! Took a while to get it all written and planned out in my head. I'd love to hear your guys' theories on the dreams and what they mean. I'd also love to hear about your thoughts on Robb and Jon. Cause woooowee, that was fun to write. Please remember, I am building these characters from my imagination for pre-canon, as there is not set for them. But I'd love to hear if you like them or not! And I'd love to hear what you want! Thank you again so much! Love you all!_

 _Love,_

 _P_

 _ **CWG967** : Thank you so much! I love getting your reviews! Hope you enjoyed it!_

 _ **SteelAndSnow** : Ahh thank you so much! That means the world to me! Hearing that I'm able to make you somewhat relate to Rina is a huge compliment! I'm glad you enjoyed it and are able to relate! And lol, that would be quite the scene to write *wink wink* Thank you for the review and I hope you will enjoy this!_


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Would love to hear everyone's thoughts! I'm not sure if y'all are liking it or not, so reviews would be greatly appreciated! But nonetheless, thank you for the support and hope you enjoy Amirina's nameday!_

 _Also! Guess who found out she was related to Catherine de Medici and is a direct descendent of the best character on Reign? This girl lol_

 **Disclaimer: Same old, same old**

* * *

"Must you tighten it so much, Renee?" Amirina sucked in a breath, leaning her hands against the wall.

The handmaiden scoffed, "Would ya rather look like ya have some form of breasts, or would ya rather look like a ten year old boy?"

Amirina rolled her eyes. "My breasts are larger than your's."

Renee laughed and pulled a string harder than necessary, causing Amirina to stumble slightly. "Try me, princess," the girl sassed back. "Ya should be thanking me fer makin' ya look like a roasted stag in front of a starvin' man."

"I don't need help to look as such," Amirina stated confidently, looking back at the fiery haired girl.

"Is that what Theon tells ya? Or per'aps Robb? Or per'aps even that one bastard, Gendry?" the pale, green-eyed beauty asked.

"Actually," Amirina started, "all three do."

Renee laughed then, appreciating the sarcasm of her lady. "Gods, Rina, ya have those Northern men wrapped around yer finger," she said, no hint of jealousy in her voice. Amirina knew how Renee liked her men. She liked them lean and dark, like the Dornish men. The southern girl liked the northern men, and the northern girl liked the southern men.

Amirina sighed then, "Yes, but not the one I wish for."

Rina had told one person of her…likings. And that person was Renee. The girl was close in age to her, a year younger, and a blunt realist. Amirina found she could trust the girl early when she had been assigned to be one of her handmaidens. She ended up trusting her more than anyone that was female at the moment. She would voice her opinions but would not voice other's secrets. She was a good person like that.

"I know, Rina," she stated, as if slightly saddened by the fact. "But can ya blame 'im for bein' blind to it. I bet the boy hasn't even seen a pair of tits since he suckled from 'is mother's own. It doesn't help that yer 'is cousin. He can't see ya in that way when all you've done is act like an older sister to 'im."

Rina nodded in agreement, albeit hesitantly. It was like she didn't want to agree with the fact. She hated that fact.

"He doesn't even look at me," Amirina stated, frustration clear in her voice. "Just a look. That's all I truly wish for. Perhaps then, he would like myself as I like him."

"He saw ya naked," Renee sniggered, tying the final knots on Amirina's corset.

"Oh shush, Renee, he didn't even see me. He looked away like a celibate knight the entire time," Amirina said, a small smile on her lips.

"Per'aps," Renee started, smoothing out Rina's underskirts, "he likes men."

Amirina burst into laughter, her corset threatening to crush her torso with each syllable. "He most definitely does not enjoy the company of a man!"

Renee shrugged, pulling Amirina's thick curls up so she could start working on her updo. "I wouldn't be sure, Ri. If I was 'im, I woulda jumped ya the moment I saw ya without any clothes on," she teased.

"Renee-"

"Rina!" the girl exclaimed suddenly. "What in the seven hells happened to yer shoulder?!"

Amirina froze at this remark, surprised the girl had caught it. Jon said nothing, so she assumed it was just a mental thing (despite having felt something the other day). "I…uh, fell off that damned horse and I am fairly certain I must have landed myself with some frostbite," she said quickly, perhaps too quickly. "It is fine, I barely feel it." Renee didn't seem to notice however and simply stated:

"Ya must have Luwin look at it."

Amirina nodded, wanting the subject to pass, which it seemingly did. Renee started talking about other matters as she began braiding certain strands of curled hair.

"Have ya written that one lord back?" she asked, pulling some strands from away from her face.

Amirina rolled her eyes and handed a piece of the dark hair to her handmaid. "By old and new, no. I nearly retched upon my lap when I read his last letter," she said, sighing in disappointment.

Renee giggled, "Oh shush, Rina. He's an heir. He'll sing ya sweet words o' poetry and make ya fat with child."

"Ah yes, the wondrous life of a woman," she teased back, tilting her head back slightly for Renee.

The younger girl chuckled and held some strands together, reaching over to grab Rina's hair comb. The piece of jewelry was intricate and old, something her mother had apparently worn at a lot of large gatherings. It was silver, flower designs with pearls decorating it. It wasn't small, but it wasn't gaudy, and Amirina loved that her father had given it to her years ago. It was one of her most prized possessions. Her only connection to her mother really.

Renee had braided the sides of Rina's hair back, pulling them together into the center of the back of her head. She pinned the two braids together with the hair comb, letting the natural ringlets cascade down her shoulders and back. Renee then proceeded to decorate the thick braids with small flowers, adding a bit more of a feminine touch than she might have intended.

The two worked in silence then, Amirina waiting for her dress. Renee grabbed it from the oak dresser, holding it carefully. She didn't want to risk ruining the fine detailing. Despite the low risk of doing so, the handmaiden still held onto the dress with such care it could be compared to a mother with her babe. Amirina wanted to chuckle at the observation.

Renee signaled for her to turn around, and Amirina did as such, watching as Renee pulled the dress up. The handmaiden separated the back, the lacing undone so she could slip the fabric over Rina's head. Amirina lifted her arms, the dress barely touching her as Renee placed it over her. The fabric clung to her waist perfectly, as it had been designed to do so. The skirt flowed effortlessly and Amirina couldn't wait to do a spin or two to see it in its finality. Amirina pushed her arms through the tight sleeves and turned around once more. Renee pushed the Martell's hair to the side, causing Rina to hold it up as the girl laced the back up.

Renee laced the dress with quick precision, the fabric now holding in place against her chest. The girl patted Rina on the back, allowing Rina to drop her curls and let them fall back into place.

"Yer all ready, Ri," Renee said, forcing Rina to turn around.

Amirina smiled at her handmaiden and wrapped her arms around the girl. "Thank you, Renee," she said, pulling away from the hug slowly.

Renee chuckled and fixed a strand of hair quickly, "Ya haven't even seen yerself, Ri. Don't thank me yet."

Amirina gave a quick laugh before rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "Shush now, Renee. I find myself to have far more eyes upon me when you have made me up for the day," she said, winking in the process. "Now, my dear, allow me the honor of having you escort me to my feast."

Renee gave a mock gasp and bowed lightly. "It would most certainly be my honor to escort ya, princess," she said, faux pride in her Northern voice.

Amirina laughed with the girl, linking her arm with her as the two stepped out of her room, heading for the night of her life.

* * *

"I can't say that I'm surprised to see ya here, Snow," a voice said, waking Jon from his stupor.

The bastard son turned and made eye contact with his half brother, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. For a moment, he had thought that the Greyjoy had been speaking to him. He rather not get into it with him on this night. On Amirina's night.

"Lady Catelyn made it clear Amirina wished for my presence, yet also managed to make me fearful of fulfilling our cousin's wants," Jon stated truthfully, lifting a goblet to his lips. It wasn't filled with wine, but instead with cold water. He needed the water to keep a clear mind. And he rather liked water over wine or mead or whatever they served at feasts.

Robb chuckled and took a breath, walking to stand beside Jon. "That would be my mother," he said with light jest, but also with slight disappointment, making Jon feel less alone.

"She's a real charmer." Jon looked around, observing every face in the crowd. He had heard rumors that Amirina's future husband would make an appearance, a surprise one at that. He knew she would be infuriated but would be unable to do anything in public so as to not embarrass her family nor herself. He hoped the gossip was simply words in the wind.

Robb then looked over to Jon, a curious look in his eyes. "People're saying you've seen our dear cousin…indecent. Is that true, brother?" he questioned, a strange tone to his voice.

Jon waved it off automatically. "Rina was screaming in the throughs of her dreams. I went in and by old and new Robb, she was sweating like a pig. Her head was warm and she complained of a chill. I immediately thought of helping her into a warm bath, as that's what Lady Catelyn always did for Sansa. I kept my eyes averted and ensured she stayed out of my line of sight or covered if my eyes were upon her. I would not ever desecrate our cousin as such," he defended, as if he had said the speech a thousand times. And he probably had, seeing as how much word was traveling.

Robb gave a chuckle and clapped Jon on the shoulder. "I know brother. You're far too timid to even look at her when she's dressed. I will ensure my mother is not bothered by it, however, as she's no doubt heard of the whispers by now," he said amicably and in full support, receiving a smile from Jon.

"Thank you, Robb," Jon said, looking over at his sibling. His brother simply gave him a large smile, one of kindness and something else. Something Jon had no clue of.

Robb took in a deep breath and allowed his eyes to search the feast. "I wonder where our dear cousin is? How long does it take a lady to groom another until fit for the public's attention," he joked lightly, nudging Jon.

Jon chuckled in response and rolled his eyes. "It would appear it takes far too long."

Robb laughed with amusement and opened his mouth to say something, but his eyes caught onto something and his lips stayed apart if only slightly. Jon cocked an eyebrow and turned to look over where his brother's eyes were landed, and even he became entranced for a moment.

Amirina had walked in, smiling and laughing with another girl who had a head of fire. Jon had seen the other girl before, as he deduced that she was Rina's handmaiden or lady or whatever they called them. She was pretty, Jon believed. A hair of fiery red, and eyes of ivy green. Yeah, he thought her pretty, even if she did have a bit of a fox's face.

But gods, Amirina looked beautiful, and while it took Jon a moment to realize it, he eventually did. Her dark curls bounced with each step she took, strands from the sides of her face pulled back into braids. Her eyes were looking a bit hazel at the moment due to the warmth of the Great Hall, but they twinkled with amusement and happiness. Her freckles stood out against her skin for once, as she had no hair to cover her face and the light forced them to pop. Her smile widened with each word her handmaid spoke, her teeth shining slightly. Her face was the epitome of happiness, and Jon thought it made her look best.

But then his eyes traveled. They traveled to her dress and the body underneath. Jon thought the dress complimented her figure well, and that the blues stood out against her skin and made her seem exotic almost. Yes, the blues were their colors, but she made the color foreign, as you never saw a beautiful girl of Southern color in the blues of the Stark household. It made him want to go up to her. It made him want to inspect every stitch in the fabric, every design. Contrary to what he had told his brother, he had peeked, if only for a brief moment and a one of weakness. One that none would know of. But he knew what she looked like under that dress, and Gods, she was-

Jon immediately stopped his train of thoughts. He shook his head and felt that his collar and trousers were a bit too warm and tight. He looked around, his eyes desperately searching for something, anything, to distract himself. He couldn't think that way. She was his cousin! She was practically his sister, he had told her as much already. She was his friend. She was not some woman he could throw his fantasies to. Nor was she just some woman who he could pursue after and hope for a chance…even though he definitely did not want that. She was family. That was not something people engaged in anymore. That practice died with Robert's Rebellion. Siblings, cousins. Done. And Jon told himself he would not fantasize of such a thing anymore.

"I'll be back," he muttered to his brother, loosening his collar slightly and walking towards the back, where he might be able to sneak out and take a moment to find clarity in the cold air.

* * *

Two people stood off to the side, a man and a woman. The woman was of average height with a blessed figure. Her hair was a pale red and done intricately upon her head. Her face was quite beautiful, her nose sharp and her face somewhat thin. Her ice blue eyes stared out at the people over the rim of her wine-filled goblet, assessing everyone in the crowd.

The man was handsome. He held a strong jaw with thin lips, a thin moustache above those. His hair was blond and curled slightly, yet done up. He had blue eyes similar to that of the woman's, and he leaned to his left slightly. A cane was visible in his left hand, showing the fact that he was crippled and his left leg was the poorly functioning one. He was taller than most, but shorter than a lot. But he was handsome, and anyone could see that.

"Where is she?" he asked impatiently.

The girl rolled her eyes and took another drink from her goblet. "You mustn't worry, Willas. She'll be here. It's her feast for gods' sakes," she said, acting as if she were the older of the two, when in reality, he was.

"She's to be my wife, Margaery," he said quietly, looking over at his beautiful younger sister. He then straightened his collar slightly and looked out at the crowd of people once more. "I'm allowed to worry where she is."

"She could be your wife," Margaery pointed out, a look of annoyance in her eyes. "That doesn't mean she is to be your wife. By the Seven Willas, she barely sends raven back after you write her. You know she does not want this."

Willas closed his eyes in annoyance. Yes. He knew very well how Amirina Martell was not at all fond of their potential betrothal. His grandmother and Prince Doran Martell were still negotiating certain things of which Willas could care less for.

"I heard her bastard cousin saw her indecent," Margaery gossiped, an amused tone to her voice.

Willas looked over at his sister, tired of her games but willing to indulge her. "Is that so?"

Margaery nodded, a smirk on her thin lips. "Why, yes dear brother. It happened earlier today, I heard. I wonder if he was gifting her her nameday gift," she said, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Willas laughed then. "It amazes me dear sister, that you can believe whispers and hear such things with only having been here for mere hours. I do admire such an ability," he teased slightly, but was also dead serious. He had no idea as to how Margaery managed to arrive at a location and suddenly know everything about everyone within hours or minutes. It…disconcerted him greatly. "But you mustn't listen to silly rumors of my soon to be wife. Our grandmother will not hear of them."

Margaery shrugged her shoulders and took another sip from her goblet. "Whatever suits you best, brother."

Willas smiled in content and was about to leave the subject but silenced all thoughts. His eyes caught a woman who seemed to be the object of the feast. She had to be, he thought. Her dark hair was done up and curls cascaded down her back. She held a gleaming smile upon her features, smile lines accessorizing the smile. Light freckles were dotted across her face, and her skin was tanned in complexion. But her eyes. Willas wished for a time he might lose himself within them. They were hazel and Willas wished to see them up close, not just lengths away.

He could not truly see her dress, but he assumed it was as beautiful as her. He hoped it was at least.

"I assume you've seen your bride to be?" Margaery asked, the slight green of envy crawling upon her tongue and words.

Willas nodded his head, uncomposed for a few moments. He shook his head then, trying to rid himself of his distraction. Yes, the woman was beautiful (which he had heard of), but he had to realize it. He had seen it, now he had to process it and rid of it as a distractor in his mind.

"Indeed I have," he muttered, grabbing his previously forgotten goblet and taking an uncharacteristic swig of it.

* * *

Amirina smiled as people she barely knew came up to greet her. She smiled and nodded and chuckled alongside them, simply to sate their needs for the girl of the feast to favor them. She found it rather tedious, but it was something she had to endure for the sake of her name. Martell. Gods, sometimes she believed it to be a curse to be a southerner in northerner's clothing. In the south, in Sunspear, these events…they just weren't the same. They were more…intimate in the North, in the way of more people clamoring to receive your attentions.

The Martell sighed, wishing for a more southern affair. And when she meant southern, she meant Dornish. She wanted to scoff at the term the northerners gave to those around King's Landing. They were not southerners. Dorne was the south of Westeros. The Dornishmen were southerners, not some pompous pricks who "ruled over the Seven Kingdoms". It itched her skin like a beetle crawling upon her.

"You're a pretty lass," the drunk voice of the Smalljon called out. Amirina could hear the slur of his words and could smell the mead on his breath.

She turned to face him and smiled, finding that he was fairly comedic in some senses from what she had seen at the feast so far. "And you're a drunk," she said in jest.

The tall northern man gave a deep laugh and walked over to Amirina. He clapped her on the shoulders and smiled at her, his face ruddy from drink and whiskers around his dark eyes from smiling. "Aye, but drink has made ya even prettier than ya were before," he said, grabbing her hand and leading her to the floor for dancing. Amirina's eyes widened by his forwardness but followed along, simply not to upset the drunk man.

People danced along the wood floors, smiling and laughing. Servants who normally would be serving or cleaning or spending time doing nothing were invited to partake in the festivities on request of Amirina, as that was the custom in Dorne. Her eyes trailed the spinning fabrics of dresses, the glimmering of smiles, and the way men held onto the women of whom they loved. It made a small smile grace the Martell's lips and made her want to join in on the fun. She wanted tonight to be one in which people could be free of responsibility and simply enjoy themselves.

The Smalljon captured her attention immediately, as if sensing she was not fully there. "Come now, little snake. Come dance with a Northern man," he said, as if it was not an option, simply a command.

Amirina raised an eyebrow but did as told, curtseying slightly to the man. She had not danced a Northern dance in quite some time, but she remembered a few bits and pieces of it. The Smalljon gave a drunk smirk and grabbed Amirina by the waist. The girl gave a slight gasp, surprised by how straightforward he was but amused by how drunk he truly was.

The dark-haired giant of a man spun her out, forcing her hand to hold onto his at the last second. He pulled her back quickly and smiled at the laugh that escaped her lips. "Ya better hold on lass, wouldn't want to hurt yer pretty face," he smirked beneath his dark beard.

Amirina gave a chuckle and smiled. "I can keep up," she challenged.

The Umber gave a hearty laugh and began twirling her, picking her up, and dancing across the wood with her.

Amirina knew she shouldn't be having as much fun as she was having with the man. She had heard things…a lot of things about the eldest Umber son. He was rumored to be cold, calculating, and knew how to manipulate his way into getting what he wished for. He was said to have tortured wildlings for simply stepping into the forests surrounding the Last Hearth. He was said to hate his father with every fiber of his being. Yet, Amirina found him to be refreshing at the moment. He was an escape for the moment.

Amirina gave another laugh as the Umber spun her around once more. Her skirts circled around her and her hair followed suit, the curls spinning and flying through the warm air around them. Her smile was wide as she closed her eyes and looked not at the Umber. This was her moment of fun for the first time of the night, she would not base it around anyone.

And just as quickly as she had started spinning, she stopped and laughter flowed from her as her surroundings tilted lightly. The deep and drunken chuckle from the Smalljon caused her to turn her attention back to him and she caught a gleam in his eyes that suddenly made her laughter stop. The look in his dark eyes made those orbs even darker and a hint of something…of malice, and suddenly her previous thoughts of who he truly was ran rampant in her mind. She felt her hand tighten from the pressure of his own, only slightly, but she felt it. And she feared it. What had she done?

A resounding applause stirred her from her thoughts, and a tense smile pulled across her lips. Her etiquette forced her into a curtsy and she felt the Umber follow suit with a bow. Her eyes searched the crowd for anyone she knew hurriedly, wishing out of the situation. She was nervous…her father oft made sure she was never. She didn't know how to handle the man grasping her hand a bit too tightly. A pair of dark brown eyes caught her's and she felt the worry of her uncle. He was an excuse. Amirina smiled and turned back to the Smalljon. The malice was gone from his gaze, but Amirina still felt the chills of unease racking her body.

"Thank you, Lord Umber," Amirina said, curtsying politely. "I appreciated the dance quite a lot."

The Smalljon grasped her hand once more and lifted it to his lips; his rough beard tickling her skin as he kissed the back of her hand. "No need fer formalities, little snake. Ya can call me Jon," he said, looking down at her and yet he still held her hand.

Amirina smiled politely and was about to excuse herself but the Smalljon caught something behind her and sighed. "It seems yer uncle wishes fer yer presence. We shall…stay in contact, little snake."

The tall man turned and slid through the dancers, his gigantic frame disappearing.

Amirina finally took a deep breath and turned to go outside for a fresh whiff of calm air. Ned would wait.

* * *

Jon sat upon the small stairs that led up to the walkway that led to the Great Hall. He gave a sigh and ran a hand down his face, tired and wondering why in all the hells he wasn't in there. It was his cousin's nameday and yet there he sat. It had not been a quick time either. Not something he used to clear his mind quickly. He had practically sat the entire night outside. And what ran through his mind? Nothing. He thought of nothing in his time outside.

Jon looked out to the dark in front of him and breathed in the cool air, his breath coming out in a puff. He reached down into his plain and dark doublet, grasping the necklace he had had made. He looked down at it and rubbed his thumb over the claw and the sapphire beads that spread next to it. The black rope was plain and all the decoration was in the claw and eight beads. He knew Amirina would like it...or he assumed he knew.

He looked back up and was about to stand to go and gift the necklace to Rina, but he hesitated when he heard footsteps.

"How is it that you always sneak out of my nameday celebrations?" the voice of Amirina Martell teased as she walked up.

Jon turned and looked up, a small smile on his lips. "Aye, it seems I always find a way."

Amirina chuckled and walked down the steps slightly, sitting next to Jon. She rubbed her hands together slightly and Jon noticed the chill overtaking her body. He had no cloak on him but he knew an old arm around the shoulder helped. He reached over and pulled her close, feeling her shiver slightly.

Amirina leaned her head upon his shoulder and he could hear her sigh. "What bothers you, cousin?" he inquired, looking straight ahead.

"I'm fairly certain that I may have just give the Smalljon the wrong impression," she confessed, her voice confused almost.

Jon chuckled slightly, unknowing to the horrors spoken of the Smalljon, "And just how do you accomplish such a task, Rina?"

"Dancing."

Jon laughed and pulled her tighter to him. "Only you would manage to make a man fall in love with you with a dance."

Amirina huffed with humor and Jon could feel her shake her head against his shoulder. He looked over at her and saw a small smile on her lips, one of contentment and peace. He smiled down at her and something in his right hand took his attention.

"Oh," he mumbled, taking his right hand and reaching it over towards Amirina, "I almost forgot your gift."

Amirina looked up at him and looked back at his hand. Jon opened his clenched fingers and revealed the necklace, the claw sitting perfectly in his palm.

Amirina gave a childish squeal and greedily took it to inspect it. "By old and new, Jon!" she exclaimed happily, holding the necklace in the air. "Where did you get the claw?! What kind is it? It looks like the size of a mountain lion, does it not? But it's shaped like a wolf's..."

Jon chuckled and motioned to help clasp it around her neck. Amirina nodded hurriedly and handed the jewelry to her cousin. He took the necklace and undid the clasp at the top, wrapping it around her neck and quickly closing it so it would stay on. Amirina looked down and quickly wrapped her arms around Jon's neck.

"Thank you, Jon. It's by the far the greatest gift someone has ever given me," she said, her voice sincere. Her smile was wide and Jon couldn't help but stare for a few moments. "I thought perhaps you'd write another story for me to add to my book, but this is better. I absolutely love it."

Jon was taken aback for a moment.

"You still have the book?" he asked, surprised and touched.

Amirina's expression changed to one as if she was surprised he'd even ask. "Of course I do, Jon! Why wouldn't I? It sits by my bedside in Sunspear. I read it almost every night," she smiled, rising to her feet.

Jon couldn't help the feeling of warmth that crept into his body and lightened his heart.

"Now, we must go back, dear cousin. It is my nameday feast, and we have yet to dance." She held out her hand to him and he took it, the warmth not receding.

Jon went with her. Of course he did. He always would go with her. He just didn't know it yet.

* * *

 _A/N: God…that was more difficult to get through than I thought it would be. I had one thing planned and when I finished, I hated it. It didn't flow. And right now, it's getting much harder, because I changed my whole outline for this pre-cannon shit. So I'll leave it up to y'all. I hope it was an okay chapter. It isn't what I totally wanted, but it was close enough to my second of four ways. I hope you liked all of the moments and pov's, and I'm sorry if I disappointed in any way._

 _I'd love to hear your thoughts on:_

 _-How much longer you want pre canon to last?_

 _-What do you want to see pre canon wise? What relationships do you want me to develop more?_

 _-What are your thoughts on Willas? Smalljon? Who would you rather she be betrothed to? (Because I can't decide which one would work better and betrothals can change wink wink)_

 _-Was this chapter alright?_

 _I'd love to hear your thoughts! Please, they really do mean a lot. I'm not asking for reviews, but more than two or three are certainly helpful for new chapters with this pre-cannon era. Thank you all, I love you so much._

 _-P_

 _ **CWG-967:** Much Love! Thank you for your continuous support!_

 _ **HPuni101** : Ahhh I missed your reviews! I was wondering where you went! So glad you're happy with how things are going! I hope I didn't disappoint! Love you!_


	11. Chapter 11

**_A_ / _N:_** _So I think there will be 5-10 more chapters of pre-canon, and then we will jump into modified canon! I'm so excited!_

 _Also, lol. I accidentally did years wrong and made Elios three years younger than he should have been in the prologue. He was supposed to be 7 when he died. I fixed the one chapter age wise, but lordy I confused myself. Haha! Sorry! I was like, uh, Katerina definitely should have been 20 when she died, not 17._

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Game of thrones. Never have, never will._**

* * *

 _Amirina was dreaming again. And she was alone._

 _The area around her was Dorne. She knew it. She smelled the sea spray in the air and she observed it in the sand upon the ground. Yet the air was not inviting as she remembered. It was cold. Harsh and icy like that of the wind she had experienced in her other dreams. Dreams of sadness it seemingly occurred to her. None of the dreams she had of yet were happy. All were sad in some way. But why?_

 _Amirina looked around her. Towers were scattered, a large city to her right at some distance. It seemed as though she was not in the middle of nowhere, but she had no real location. That was common in Dorne, as cities were close enough to be quick travels but far enough to leave quite the distance. It greatly perturbed her._

 _Crossing her arms to gather heat, Amirina began walking. She walked with neither purpose not direction. To her, it seemed as though she was not presented with the event unfolding before her. Instead, she was to come upon it. She had no qualms about that, however, as she rather enjoyed observing the scenery, while bland, it proved beautiful. So she walked, and walked, and walked._

 _Time seemed to cease to pass as she continued. Nothing was occurring and the landscape ceased to move with her. It was as if she was walking in place. Yet, she knew she wasn't. It was Dorne. Some parts seemed to never move past you, as the scenery could become repetitive. The clouds above her moved slightly and the sun still beat down as if it were real. She knew it wasn't. She knew it should be heat upon her shoulders instead of chills running across her flesh._

 _Then, Amirina heard it._

 _The sound of horses clipping their hooves against the rough dirt and sand filled her ears. She spun around and was faced with a group of perhaps five or six knights on horseback, all prepared to seemingly kill. The leader, the one at the front, wore armor as gold as gold could become, shining like a beacon in the Dornish sun. Amirina stood tall, assuming that they could run right through her and fail to injure her. She, of course, still shut her eyes as they stopped within a hairbreadth of her nose. She looked up and saw the horse staring right into her eyes._

 _It terrified her so suddenly that she jumped back slightly. The white horse seemed to snap from its daze then and turn to whinny at the other steeds. The leader swung from his horse, gracefully landing on his feet with dust exploding around his ankles. He proceeded to take his gold helmet off and shake his hair from the entrapment._

 _Once again, Amirina was faced the the golden locks of a man she had seen thrice now._

 _"It's too damnably hot here," he exasperated, his voice heavy from exhaustion._

 _Another man, seemingly a right hand, jumped from his own bay steed and discarded his helmet. "What do ya expect? It's Dorne. May as well be one of the Hells," he chimed, moving to stand next to the blond man._

 _The blond looked around, surveying the seemingly barren land. "I can't believe she lived here for so long."_

 _"Well, she couldn't very well leave, now could she?" his companion joked slightly._

 _"No," he responded, looking down to the dirt and shuffling slightly, "no she couldn't."_

 _The companion seemed startled for a moment, but he quickly recuperated and turned to face the other men. "Spread out! We've a lot of land to cover! Move!"_

 _The blond nodded in appreciation towards his friend and seemed to gather his bearings. He took his helmet and attached it to a hook upon his saddle, patting his steed to ensure its cooperation. He then joined his friend and the two began to walk, Amirina following them in interest._

 _"Her husband sent out a raven to King's Landing," the leader began, his blue-green eyes scorching the earth before them._

 _"That's risky, Jaime."_

 _"Yes, but coming here is far more of such a thing," Jaime spoke gravely._

 _The blond man looked so…defeated. He looked beyond hurt. He was, for lack of a better term, older than the man who stood next to him (and the man who stood next to him was nearing his midlife perhaps)._

 _"Robert allowed us, you cannot claim this to be a risky feat," the older companion tried to rationalize. "Aye, we're in…enemy territory, but the Martells promised the Seven Kingdoms no harm after you killed Aerys. Doran is no fool."_

 _"All Martells are fools, Barristan."_

 _"No Jaime, you're a fool to believe such a thing," Barristan said, shaking his head slightly as they walked side-by-side. "Your lady…she is a Martell, is she not?"_

 _"She is no Martell. She shares only the name, not the blood," Jaime defended harshly, as if he was offended by such a claim._

 _Things began to click within Amirina's head._

 _"By the Seven, Jaime-"_

 _"No. Do not take me as a fool. If you cut her hand, she bleeds not the blood of the Rhoynar. She bleeds that of the First Men. She is no southerner. She is definitely no Martell._

 _"And don't give that damned look, Barristan. She's alive. I ensured it. She simply…she simply forgot to send a raven and she forgot the point of rendezvous. It's quite simple."_

 _Barristan shook his head and took a deep breath. "You are still so young, Jaime. Do not encase yourself within denial so the pain lessens. The Rebellion was large and felt by all. She could have run into a pack or perhaps been hit by a stray arrow. It happens lad," he excused, shrugging his shoulders slightly._

 _"She's. Alive."_

 _The two continued on in silence then, Amirina's head spinning. Blood of First Men. Martell by name. Dead after the Rebellion (or so Barristan believed). A man who killed Aerys. Robert's Rebellion. Blond hair. Jaime…Jaime…_

 _Amirina looked up with wide eyes and stared directly at the blond man. Jaime. It was Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. It was the man who ended the Rebellion. The man who killed King Aerys II Targaryen. A man who was looking for a woman of First Men blood but Martell by name._

 _A woman Amirina knew quite well…_

 _"Set Jaime! See Barristan!" a voice cried out, loud and full of urgency. "We believe to have found something!"_

 _Amirina turned quickly and followed the two men, who had turned probably even faster. Jaime briskly traveled to where they had heard the cry and Barristan was trailing him as best he could._

 _Her mind was racing. Her head was pounding. Her breathing was quickening. Her eyes wanted to not see what she expected to be there underneath a ragged bush that could hide possibly a horse. Her eyes rapidly closed and opened, hoping and praying for what she expected to not come to pass._

 _"Ser…I-"_

 _The young knight did not get to finish what he was saying before he stepped aside. Behind him made Amirina nearly collapse._

 _A woman laid upon the forgotten dirt and orange sand. An outfit of camouflage donned her body: a plain dress and a hood. Her hand was clasped around something and the other hand…the other hand held onto another hand. A much, much smaller hand._

 _The woman…she lacked a head. And by the Gods did Amirina wish she could unsee it. The head laid a couple of feet underneath the bush, or had, as the young man had apparently pulled it from the bare twisted branches and set it next to her body._

 _The eyes were disturbing. Amirina could see the last bit of fear, desperation, hopelessness, and slight love hiding within the hazel orbs. Her skin was pale from death and freckles seemed to die out as well. Her mouth was slightly open still and the full lips that were once full of life, were pale from lack of it. And her hair…Gods, the way the dark brunette curls were tangled made Amirina pity the lack of care the woman experienced._

 _She had been beautiful and any man could see that, even in death. It made Amirina wish to cry out in pity and sadness. But her looks…her looks were what her-_

 _"By the Seven…" Barristan mumbled, disgusted by the scene of a decapitated woman with a dead child clinging onto her hand._

 _"There's a second child…underneath…"_

 _"Don't lad," the older man stopped him, his eyes closed out of sadness and disgust. "Don't show us."_

 _He then turned to a stock-still Jaime, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Is it?"_

 _The man only nodded slightly, a look of emptiness within his sea green eyes. Nothing resided there. Nothing would. His hand clenched and unclenched. A vessel protruded slightly from his skin. And his jaw clenched tightly, unforgiving in pain._

 _"What do we do with the bodies, ser?" the young knight asked, a pained look upon his face as he looked up to the older men._

 _"Take them back with us to King's Landing. Let her brother know what has befallen her and her children," Ser Barristan spoke softly, tired and worn from the image._

 _"No."_

 _Barristan quickly turned his head to Jaime. "What?"_

 _"Give her body back to her_ husband _," he spat out, venom flowing from him. "Give him an urn of the dirt on which they perished. Let him live with that. Burn the bodies of the children on a marked pyre. They shall not pay for their father's crimes, so allow them rest with the Mother through their burning."_

 _The young knight swallowed as if something were stuck in his throat. He nodded his head slowly and three other men joined him in gathering the two small children that they had seen. One was a boy, an ugly one at that, of around seven namedays. And the other was not much younger. Perhaps five or six at most. It was a girl, one that looked exactly like a man Amirina knew._

 _Jaime began to turn around but stopped. "Search for another boy, one much like the girl. He was her twin," he spoke lowly, his voice void of emotion._

 _He then turned fully and looked at the men, a panic suddenly filling his eyes. "Is there a babe?"_

 _"Ser?"_

 _"A babe. A girl, no more than perhaps…a year or two in age. Is there a baby girl?" His voice was frustrated, panicked, and full of terror._

 _The men searched for a second. "There is a young boy Ser, but no babe. Perhaps she was taken? Or perhaps the lady did not take her with?"_

 _Jaime huffed and nodded, finally turning to go and retrieve his horse. Barristan only spoke to the men for a brief moment more before he walked back to Jaime's side._

 _"What is it with a baby girl? Why do you seem to be so concerned for her well being? I understand the woman, but, a child?"_

 _Jaime sat silent as he reached his horse and pulled himself back into the saddle. He grabbed his helmet and settled it over his head once more. Before he set the grate over, he said:_

 _"That girl is my daughter."_

 _And Amirina sat there, unmoving like a statue of the dragons that once populated King's Landing. Her eyes were large and her mouth slightly gaping. The air was ice cold and Amirina could feel snow start to grace her chicken-fleshed skin. Her body began to shake uncontrollably. Chills and sobs began to rack her being and Amirina knew not what to do. An unsteady hand began to reach towards her widening mouth. Her body began to fall back slightly, and her knees buckled._

 _Her weight pulled her to the ground and she fell upon her knees. Her eyes began to redden and salty warmth burned her cheeks. A heart-crushing realization hit her in the chest like a poisoned arrow, the toxin searing its way into her bloodstream and burning her body. She clutched at her chest with one hand, her mouth with the other. Her mind pounded against her skull and she lacked anything but tunnel vision that narrowed in on the body of a woman._

 _The body of Katerina Martell. The body of her mother._

* * *

"I will alert Lord Eddard and Lady Cat of Amirina's illness," Maester Luwin spoke softly.

Jon had brought his cousin to the Maester, awake before anyone else could rise. He had stayed in her room that night, having fallen asleep on the rocking chair she so desperately enjoyed finding comfort in. The two had danced well into the night and Jon remembered steering her clear of Willas Tyrell's presence far too many times. Robb had cut in every so often, but Rina came back to Jon every time, claiming "one last dance". And he had caved every time.

It wasn't until everyone began to tire from the night's festivities that Rina wished to retire as well. She said her goodbyes and had Jon escort her to bed, ignoring the whispers that followed. Word had spread of what occurred that morn and Rina could care less. Rumors meant nothing to her. She wished for him to read her a few stories, like they used to. She said, "I don't have the book you gave me, but we can make do with this". It was a history tome on the Targaryen dynasty. She rather enjoyed it and Jon, while finding it semi-interesting, had fallen asleep some time after she had, as she had been lying in bed while he sat in the chair.

He woke up to her crying in her sleep and sweating beyond normality. Instead of running into another accident for people to whisper of, Jon scooped up his cousin within his arms and dashed as quickly as he could to the Maester's tower. And within minutes, Jon had perhaps saved Rina's life. Luwin has given her some milk of the poppy to calm her down and put her into a deep sleep, hoping it would help to rouse her from her fever dream. He said she was so warm, he could have cooked an egg upon her skin. Whether it was poor humor or with all serious intent, it worries Jon greatly. Her body shook with ghostly chills and her sweat was freezing to the touch, yet her skin was burning with heat.

"Do not worry, Jon Snow," Luwin comforted carefully and quietly. "She is a Stark and Martell. She is strong and simply has come down with quite the fever, she will survive such an endurance. It will not be painless, but it will not kill her. She will need time, and an abundance of it. But she will heal."

Jon nodded and chose to stay there with her. He would stay there by her side until Catelyn requested he leave.

* * *

Jon opened his eyes, a pain throbbing in his neck. He groaned and reached up, rubbing at the tense spot. Lifting his head, his vision adjusted slowly to the scene before him. Amirina laid peacefully under the furs that were keeping her chilled body warm. Luwin stood in the corner, his voice quiet and patient. Before him stood Jon's father and Lady Catelyn. He had wondered when they would be able to arrive; apparently they had taken some time, as Jon had enough time to fall asleep and grow a cramp in his neck.

He went to stretch and realized something was holding onto his right hand. Jon looked down and realized that Amirina's hand lightly held onto his own, as if using him as a stuffed animal that a child holds at night. He gave a small smile and lightly moved his hand from her own, doing his best to not disturb her.

"Don't worry, young man," the wistful voice of Luwin spoke.

Jon looked up and noticed the trio staring at him. Luwin looked on with appreciation. Ned as well, in fact, shared the look, but Catelyn looked on with poorly hidden disdain in those cold blue eyes.

"She's under the influence of the poppy. She can't feel a thing at the moment," Luwin informed him, beginning to walk over to the girl. He crossed the short distance and placed his hand upon her forehead. "Her fever is breaking, I believe."

Jon gave a small sigh of relief and began to stand so he may stretch and take his leave, as that was what he was prepared to do once Catelyn arrived.

"Jon," his father said quietly, "thank you for…for caring for your cousin."

Jon only nodded his head, quite tired and not wishing to deal with the rude berating of Catelyn Stark. He began to move the chair he had taken rest upon but was stopped once more.

"May I ask that you stay with her for a while longer?" Ned asked, his voice grave and full of fatigue. "We must…write her father and discuss some things, and you've done quite well with her already."

"I believe the boy could be of use to me anyways," Maester Luwin said kindly, causing Ned to bow his head in gratitude before he turned to leave.

Jon looked over at Catelyn and watched her nostrils flare slightly, but that was all she did. No comment. Not looks. Just the nose. And then, she had turned to leave with her husband.

He smiled to himself and began to sit back down, but Luwin interrupted him.

"Oh no, boy. I was not telling tales when I said you may be able to help me," the old maester laughed slightly, moving over to his table of herbs and various natural remedies. "Your cousin has been bitten by the cold and I need assistance with creating the poultice necessary to save her flesh."

"She received a cold burn?" Jon asked inquisitively, moving to stand opposite to Luwin.

"Aye." He nodded, grabbing a few leafy sprigs. "It appears she has been bitten on her shoulder. Strange though, would you not believe? Her shoulder. By old and new how she managed such a feat."

Jon raised an eyebrow and looked back at his cousin. Luwin was right. How in the hells did she managed to be burnt by cold on her shoulder? It normally attacked the fingers and toes before anything else. Then the knees and elbows and nose. The rest of her was normal. What had she done?

"It's raised rather odd as well," Luwin mused, more so to himself but loud enough for Jon to hear. "No matter. I shall ensure she heals within the next few days. She shall be fully recovered within the fortnight."

Jon looked back at Luwin, his eyebrows furrowed and mind questioning. It was odd to him. Her face was normal. There was a sheen of cold sweat forming, but her skin seemed normal, perhaps a bit more pale as he could see her freckles more clearly. Her lips were lightly parted and her face relaxed. Her chest rose and fell with a smooth rhythm. She seemed…normal. Yet, she had a burn from the cold upon her shoulder and she was having intense fever dreams it seemed. It all seemed rather odd.

Jon walked back over to Luwin and looked down at the poultice bowl filled with shreds of onion. "Onions?" he asked, surprised by the choice.

Luwin nodded his head and reached for a few sprigs of lavender. He pinched his fingers on the end of the stem and pulled down, letting the purple flowers fall into the bowl. "It works. I add lavender so it may smell more..." he paused for a moment, "appeasing."

He did this twice more and Jon watched with attentive curiosity. "What is it you wish for me to do?" the young boy asked, anxious now that he had done nothing to help.

"Warm the embers and ensure there is water in the pot."

Jon nodded and walked over the the pot and dying wood. He grabbed the flint and reinvigorated the dying flakes of flames. The fire took in the air and quickly began to come back to life once more. He stood and looked inside the pot, pleased to see it more than halfway full with unused water.

"It's nearly full with water," Jon said, letting the maetser know. He turned to look at him and saw the older man bent over the table, grinding the lavender and onion inside of the poultice bowl.

Luwin didn't even turn when he spoke. "Good. Retrieve ten sage leaves from the drawers to your left. They're labeled, don't fret. Place those in a cup and when the water is warm enough, pour enough in to fill the cup. Let the leaves sit for a few moments as you warm some cloth in the water. Don't burn it. Just soak the cloth in the hot water. Then take the leaves out with a rod to your right."

Jon blinked, absorbing as much information as he could. Cups. Leaves. Sage leaves actually. Then steep those in the hot water. Put a cloth in the hot water. Remove leaves from cup with rod.

Turning to face back to the operation at hand, Jon searched for cups. His dark grey eyes, however, could not detect them.

"To your right, one drawer down."

 _Nevermind_.

Jon bent down and opened the drawer indicated. Pleasantly, he found a small cup. He set it upon the counter and began to search for the sage leaves necessary. He turned to his left and began looking through the assortment of leaves the maester kept. There was a multitude of jars and dishes of different herbal and medicinal leaves, yet he couldn't seem to find sage. Large leaves…labeled, he thought to himself. It took him a moment, as he realized he had passed over them. Breathing a sigh, Jon grabbed the jar and took out ten of the leaves. He set the jar back and placed each leaf inside of the cup.

Jon then looked around and found a thin piece of fabric. He lifted it up and turned to Luwin. "Would this work?"

The maester looked up and nodded his head. "That'll do, Jon."

Jon turned back to his assigned task and set the cloth upon the counter. He grabbed a pouring cup and filled it to transfer it to the tea cup. Carefully, Jon poured the hot water into the cup and watched the large sage leaves rise as the water level rose. Steam rose in the cool air and Jon smelled the strong scent of sage rising with it.

Jon then grabbed the cloth and set it in the pot, allowing it to become soaked with the hot liquid.

"Your father now has quite the predicament in his hands," Luwin started, causing Jon to raise an eyebrow.

"How so?" the young Snow asked.

Luwin carried the poultice bowl over to the counter and added a dash or two of some last herb. "Your cousin managed to garner the attention of a certain Umber last eve. He's rather…"

"Enraptured?" Jon offered, using a metal hook to get the cloth out of the water.

Luwin chuckled then, "Yes. Enraptured would be the term I assume fits your father's description."

Jon then carefully laid the cloth on the stone counter and watched as Luwin poured some leftover water from the pouring cup into the poultice bowl, mixing the concoction one last time.

"She's to be betrothed to Willas Tyrell," Jon said, confused by how this could be such a predicament. "A lot of men are fond of my cousin, that doesn't mean anything."

Luwin nodded his head as if Jon was right. "You are correct, young Snow. However, it seems as though the rose's little sister believes the match to be…futile. She approached your father this morn to rescind the offer until further notice," he said matter-of-factly.

"So the Smalljon will now make his own offer…" Jon realized, now discarding the leaves from the tea.

"And it is supposedly a far more favorable one. The Martells are not fond of the Tyrells, and the Umber family is closer to here than Highgarden is. Your father will favor it, and I don't doubt that her own will as well."

Luwin began placing the poultice on the cloth, spreading it carefully so it could cover more area. He placed another cloth over it and motioned for Jon to grab the cup of tea.

"I'm going to need your help with applying this on her shoulder," the old man spoke softly as the two approached the sleeping girl. "The burn is on the back of her shoulder. So we will need to lay her upon her belly to let the poultice to do its job."

Jon stayed silent, not knowing if there were any other way to allow the medicine to work. He was no maester, he had no experience. He would only help the man as best he could and do as what was instructed of him.

Luwin set the cloth down on a bedside table and Jon did the same with the tea. The Snow then moved to the other side of the bed and looked at the maester of Winterfell. The elder man nodded and the two bent over lightly, grasping Amirina's body as gently as they could. They managed to move her onto her side and then onto her front. Luwin tilted her head to the right, so she wouldn't be facing the poultice. It probably would wake her with the strong scent in her face, and that was the last thing they needed.

Luwin grabbed the wrapped medicine and pulled Amirina's night-dress sleeve back. Thankfully, it was a thin strap and wasn't too in the way of things. And Jon got a good look at the burn. It was oddly shaped, as the maester had stated before. It was almost like something had…grabbed her lower than one would normally grasp another's shoulder. It was rather strange, but Jon did not have the privilege of looking upon it much longer, as Luwin put the cloth on it. He adjusted the cloth accordingly and Jon could hear a hissing from the hot water and medicine mixing with the burn wound.

He flinched slightly and watched as Luwin began to wrap thin and long cloth over the poultice cloth and around her shoulder. The second cloth would help to ensure the poultice didn't move from the spot of significance. Jon couldn't help but begin to find the art of medicine interesting. It gave…power. It gave one the ability to decide the fate of one person. Jon never had that, not as a bastard. But medicine…oh, it could give him that. Where name fell weak, an art would be there to make up for it.

Jon was about to ask a question regarding learning the art, but a nearly silent sentence escaped Amirina's mouth. He looked down with wide eyes at his cousin. Quickly, he sat down in his chair and leaned close to her face, hoping she would whisper once more in her sleep. But he had no such luck.

"Why milk of the poppy? Why not essence of nightshade?" Jon asked suddenly, looking up at the old man who looked down at Amirina quizzically.

"She was in pain. Nightshade allows drowsiness to overcome a patient and push them into sleep. Poppy, however, relieves the patient of their pain and forces them to sleep," he informed Jon, walking over to a flask that had a white liquid inside of it.

"Your cousin's illness is quite strong; it is why she spoke softly. The poppy is wearing off it appears." He took the topper off of the flask and poured a little bit into the sage tea. "Place this by her face. The steam will waft and hopefully work in both ways necessary. If she wakes, calm her and give her the tea to drink. I will be back. I have lessons to teach your brothers."

And with that, Luwin floated out of the room, leaving Jon with Amirina's sleeping form.

The young bastard looked over at the closing door and then looked down upon his cousin. Her breathing seemed normal, despite Jon thinking it to be hindered by her position. Sweat still formed at her brow but not at the pace it had been. Her features were relaxed and she seemed content in her sleep.

Her right hand laid next to her face, and Jon thought that perhaps holding it would ease her pain as well. He had seen many do it before when a loved one was ill. The comfort of not being alone helped soothe the aches of illness. So, he grabbed ahold of her hand, squeezing it just enough for her to know he was there. He didn't care if she was in a deep sleep, he just wanted her to know.

Using his other hand, he placed the cup as close to her face as possible so it wouldn't fall. And then, he just sat there, looking at her.

As he sat there, those thoughts he had pushed back began to rise up again. That jealousy that he would lose his cousin again to someone else. First, it had been the threat of Robb. Robb had everything. He got everything he wished for. Amirina was their cousin, yes, but Jon wanted her to be his best friend. Hells, she was his only friend at times. And no matter how hard Robb tried or in what ways he looked at her, Jon was always Amirina's first priority.

Then there was Willas Tyrell, the wilted rose. Jon couldn't help but become ecstatic that the man would not marry his cousin. The Smalljon would request for her hand too quickly for the Tyrells to change their minds. If he ever met the Tyrell's younger sister, he would thank her for her decision. He couldn't imagine Amirina going to Highgarden and being a snake among roses. She was too…northern for that. Jon knew that she definitely had Stark in her, simply by the way she acted. And no wolf was a friend of flowers. She would also be too far to regularly visit. She would be caged up in Highgarden with no friends or family to spare. He tried to convince himself that he was thinking on her behalf and not his own.

And the Smalljon. Jon wondered if Amirina would be able to contend with the giant of a man. But with everything she described last eve, she seemed to be able to handle him quite well. The Umber man became entranced by her with one meeting, and that wasn't a surprise for Jon. His cousin was exotic in the North. She was everything most northern lords would never have. Perhaps that was the most dangerous part of her life but Jon had faith that she would be just fine with the far northern man. He hadn't heard awful things of him and he was close by. They would be able to visit quite a bit.

Yet, something still plagued the back of Jon's mind. He couldn't quite place a name to it, but he knew it was there. He knew that it whispered in his ear as he stared upon his cousin. It gnawed at the back of his skull like an incessant rat. He felt it too. He felt it in his chest and within his being. He just couldn't place a name to it. It came up whenever he sat in silence with his cousin. It came up whenever he stared at her. It was beginning to approach him at all times. The day they had gone to pray after her father left her. The day she had sparred with him after receiving the news of possible betrothal to Willas. The day they went to the hot springs with Arya, Bran, and Rickon. The day when he found the claw for her. The day he found her quivering in her furs in her sleep. Her nameday feast. And today. All days he felt that gnawing at the back of his mind.

He just couldn't find the name for it.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Ahh! Well, this chapter was a work in progress for quite some time. We got some plot twists in there, that maybe ya picked up earlier in the chapters or just found out now! And that's all up to interpretation. It's not for certain…or is it? If anyone needs clarification on timeline, I can help. It is quite confusing at a lot of points, but I figured it out._

 _Anyways, a lot of stuff happening now. Don't worry about Willas y'all! He'll be back. And this is super important if ya remember what happens with weddings. No spoilers. Chapters will come out more quickly now, as I have this pre-cannon stuff now fully organized. Thank you all for the love and support and I hope you all continue to love and support this!_

 _Love,_

 _P_

 _ **aryan778** : Thank you for the review! And yes, well that seems to be settled now! Sort of. Kinda. That whole event will have more effect later on in the story!_

 _ **Arianna** : Your reviews always make me smile, lol. Sadly, Jon and Rina won't be together for some time, as Game Of Thrones never lets that happen does it? And don't worry, both will be addressed accordingly :)_

 _ **HPuni101** : I love your reviews! Thank you so much for the kind words and your continued support! Hope you enjoy this!_

 _ **BigWilly526** : My main concern for canon is the events. Most of those will stay the same. A lot of characters and their emotions will change due to Amirina being there, but a lot of events will stay the same. It will be a modified canon, but not AU really. I hope that clears up why I'm worried about canon._

 _ **maartenvervloet** : Oh god no. Too many stories do that. Viserys won't matter in this story, as Amirina would never possibly meet him due to his death and the fact that she'd probably kill him if she met him. And Joffrey would never survive with Amirina lol. Tommen is too good a person too. He deserved better. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **guest** : Willas is a better character than the Smalljon, but Umber provides a much more interesting arc due to us knowing how awful he is. Thank you for the review!_


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N:** Long A/N at end. Apologies. Wanted to get this shorter bridge-chapter cranked out as well. Hope y'all enjoy :) A lot of jumping around, time progression. Not the best one, but a necessary one. Next few chapters will be spread out timeline wise and then we will start Canon._

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own GOT or ASOIAF. Same thing as last time.**_

* * *

Jon had been watching Amirina for the past two days, tediously caring for her. Luwin had instructed him how to do so, which therefore allowed the maester to attend to other matters. It was not a deathly situation, so it would not require the older man's full attention. Amirina was already making strides with her health. Her fevers were becoming far more spread out than the first day. By the third day, she broke the fever and both Jon and Luwin had yet to feel her body heat up again. It was good progress and it meant that it was a simple illness that would run its course with time and rest, making it easier for the two males.

Amirina had begun mumbling in her sleep more and more, meaning her body was burning through the poppy quicker. When one was healthy, milk of the poppy was not usually effective, or so Maester Luwin informed him. The body did not focus on the wound or illness, so it focused on the poppy instead. This was also a good sign, as she must be getting better if she was waking quicker.

The third day was no different. Jon had been in the tower nearly the entirety of the day, with breaks for relieving himself and finding things to do. He would go stir-crazy if he simply sat there and did nothing but stare at Amirina. And Gods, he was already going mad with that voice in the back of his mind. He had to distract himself somehow.

He was learning the art of medicine, and he found it quite interesting. Luwin said he would teach him only the basics, the rest would be up to him. He was quite alright with that. The old man had taught him common grinding techniques, boiling as well. He had also taught him how to create a poultice and he had learned how to apply different kinds. That was the extent of his studies thus far, and he was eager to learn more on the morrow.

Jon looked at Amirina then, curious to see if she was close to waking. She had not eaten nor drunk anything for the past three days and it worried the Snow quite a bit. They would have to wait until she was somewhat awake to even think about giving her liquid. She would need to be fully conscious, or aware, to be given food. However, Luwin suggested broth being a fine option. Jon didn't know anything about feeding ill people, so he left that the man with silver chains.

Amirina's cheeks seemed a bit more gaunt, and her face did seem parler than usual, but Jon had to contribute that to the sickness that had overcome her. He worried for her wellbeing while she laid sleeping, but he couldn't voice his opinions to Luwin without being scolded, as he "was not a master of the art and therefore, could not judge as he could". Jon wanted to roll his eyes at that. It was an ignorant comment coming from a man who had dedicated his life to serving those around him. But Jon was lower than even he, as Jon was a bastard. Luwin was a respected maester. There was a large jump for the bastard boy.

Jon's eyes began to feel heavy, and he wished to be able to close them. The day had been long and he wouldn't mind being able to sleep. Sleep had been difficult, however, as he had nightmares of Amirina's illness returning and being far worse than any could dream of (ironically). He woke sporadically and often found himself laying his upper body on the furs of the bed, his hand still inside Amirina's own. He wanted her to know he was there. She had always been there for him. He would be there for her, it was only fair.

"Jon…"

The boy in question sat ramrod straight within a second and tightened his hand slightly. He looked over at the girl who lied beneath the furs. Her lips were parted slightly and her eyes stayed shut, but he knew she had said his name. He scooted the chair closer to her and leaned down to be near her face.

"Rina?" he asked quietly, hoping she truly had spoken.

"Jon," she said again, her voice quieter this time, but still definitely her voice. He wasn't sure if she was dreaming or if she knew that he was there.

"I'm here, Rina," he offered, squeezing her hand.

"Am I dreaming, Jon? I've been dreaming," she paused, "a lot."

Her words were slow and quiet, slurred at times. But she was speaking, and that's all Jon knew Luwin would hope for at the moment.

"You're not dreaming, Rina. I'm here. I'm real, dear cousin," he encouraged, scooting as close as he physically could. His excitement for the development was palpable. His features had lit up and the bags under his eyes seemed to wilt away with each word exchanged between them.

The girl smiled lightly in her drowsy stupor, and Jon could feel her hand tighten weakly in his own. "That's good," she whispered.

"Yes, that's very good, Rina."

"I had some…bad…dreams," she slurred, her tone light yet sad at the same time.

Jon cocked an eyebrow and wanted for a reason. "What type of bad dreams?"

"Myyyyy…muther. Sheeee-she died. And I saaaaw all of it," her words began to become more pushed together and elongated. It was like the poppy was trying to pull her back in. But Jon wanted to know more.

He shook her hand lightly, trying to instill some form of alertness for her. She had to fight the poppy for now. Just for a few more moments.

"You have never seen your mother, though?" he asked curiously, interested as to how she saw her mother in a dream.

"Mmmhmmmm," she hummed, "but I-ayeeeeee saw her, dead as dirt sheeewas."

Jon had a bit of a difficult time deciphering her words, but he was making do with the little context she was providing for him.

"And aaaaaa blond man," she smirked tiredly, "he thinks he's myyyyy farther."

"Father, you mean?"

"Aye," she laughed with a sleep-deprived chuckle. It was funny, as she had slept more than anyone in Winterfell, yet it seemed she was the most exhausted. "But I aaaam…a…what am I Jon?"

"A Martell?"

"Yesss," she sighed, as if content to be given her name, "I am a Martell! I am a snake amooong wolves."

Jon couldn't help but chuckle slightly at his cousin's state. She was obviously fighting off the effects of the poppy and he couldn't help but find amusement in it.

"That ya are, Rina." He smiled at her. "Why don't ya rest some more, and we shall talk more in the morn?"

"That...that sounds pleasant," she mumbled off, sleep trying to reclaim her.

Jon shook his head with a smile and began to lean back in his chair, ready for sleep to claim him as well. But she spoke again.

"Lay with me, Jon," she whispered, causing the boy in question to widen his eyes.

"What?" Was all he could manage.

"I'm quite…cold. Yeeeer hand is warm. Lay with me," she slurred, her words making less and less sense contextually.

Jon pinched the bridge of his nose. "That isn't good for ya, Rina. Sleep now, and…" he had to think of something quickly to avoid the situation, "I shall lay with you tomorrow eve."

The Martell girl smiled at that and slowly nodded her head.

"Promise me, Snow."

"I promise."

* * *

Eddard Stark took in a deep breath.

"I'm not quite sure you understand my predicament, Jon," the Warden of the North sighed. "She's my sister's daughter, not mine own."

"Aye," the Greatjon nodded, "but she is yer blood, is she not? She is in yer home, is she not? Surely, ya can approve of this."

"I-"

"Apologies, my lord," came the voice of the Smalljon, "but I agree with my father. She is your niece. She is in your home. _Surely_ , you should be able to approve of such a thing? Write her father if ya have to, but can you not agree to such an… _appealing_ match?"

His voice was smooth. He held a tone that made many women swoon, yet there was a darkness beneath it that few knew of. Ned had heard of a few stories. He had. But he had neither proof nor the ability to put such accusations to charge. The Greatjon was a fierce and loyal bannerman to House Stark. Putting his son to trial on rumors would hurt one of their greatest alliances.

But what other defenses did he have? He could continue to sing the tale of not being the giver of the girl's hand. But men would tire of that. He had nothing to defend his niece with. Eddard could say either yay or nay, and write to Oberyn of the decision. He knew Amirina was in his care, and her father could care less at times. He wanted her happy. And the offer that the Umbers made…it was enticing for any father. While Amirina was no full Stark, she still had it from Katerina. She had a name, a very beautiful name that would make any lord hungry. The Tyrells were out of the discussion. The young lady had been very…vague about their reasons and they left quickly after. But the Umbers? They seemed set on it.

Eddard looked over to Catelyn, his dark eyes pleading with her ice blue orbs. She was not happy with the settling of the matter, but she recognized the opportunity for every family. Her motto was "Family, Duty, Honor" and while she put her niece first in the matter, she knew the duty of a woman was to marry into a strong alliance. The Tyrells were a weak one, unstable at best due to their relationship with the Martells in the past. But the Umbers? It would benefit all of them.

The Starks would gain an even stronger loyalty. The Martells would gain land in the North. And the Umbers would gain a beauty and a new alliance, a strong one at that. It seemed strategically sound on parchment. But Eddard still gnawed on the rumors. It was all that held him back. By old and new, Amirina seemed to enjoy her time with the Smalljon at her nameday feast.

He took a deep and slow breath, running over the scenarios.

"I will…consent to it. The match is favorable to all. Amirina will stay nearby compared to other suitors. She is accustomed to Northern weather and I believe the Umbers will not hinder her interests, as I feared the Tyrells would. The Umber House will not only strengthen their ties with House Stark, but also forge new ones with House Martell. I will not decide her dowry, as that is up for decision by her father. Amirina will be notified of the pairing once her father has approved of it and once she has recovered from her ailments. House Stark will accommodate both the Greatjon and Smalljon of House Umber until the final decision has been made."

And while he spoke, Catelyn sat in her seat, writing down his exact words on a piece of parchment to send to Oberyn Martell and his older brother, Doran. Her hand shook as she wrote the beautiful black letter upon the yellow surface, terrified of what could happen with her niece when alone with the giant of a man named Jon Umber.

* * *

Oberyn sat in the chair opposite his brother at the table. The air was cool for the day and they rather enjoyed sitting out on the veranda, the sight of Doran's children playing in the waters below.

"I have authority over you," was all Doran said, his eyes distant and clouded with thought.

Oberyn scoffed, "She is _my_ daughter."

Doran shrugged then, nodding his head in agreement. "Yet I have rule over the people of Dorne. Your daughter, my niece, is one of those people. I can decide to agree with the consent given by Eddard Stark, or I can choose to disagree and have Amirina recalled back to Dorne. She would very well hate me for such a thing, but she would hate you far more, brother."

Oberyn scowled at the older man, an anger rushing through him. He had promised Amirina a year before possibility of betrothal. And already, within four moons of time, he had allowed a betrothal to be offered and fall through, and allowed a second one to be accepted as well.

"Do _you know_ of the Umbers?" Oberyn asked with venom in his voice.

Doran shook his head. "Does it matter, Oberyn? Eddard trusts them. We shall too."

Oberyn Martell scoffed and threw his head back with a bark of hostile laughter. "You are having quite the time with _selling_ my daughter off, are you not?"

"She will be wed to Jon Umber, Oberyn. It is what is best for House Martell. Do you think it best that she and Arianne are near one another? Do you think it wise to send her to a house that we have no links to? Your marriage to Katerina Stark opened us to the North, and you are aware of such a thing, do not play me for a fool, Oberyn. Amirina will become his wife within the year. Do _not_ question me on it again."

* * *

Jon sat next to the bed, helping his cousin eat the broth.

"Come now, Rina, ya have to eat it," he pleaded, annoyance staring to rise.

"I'm not hungry," she stubbornly insisted, trying to cross her arms but wincing from the pain it drew from her shoulder. "I am, however, curious as to when this damned herb will be removed from my shoulder."

Jon sighed and sat back in his chair. "Maester Luwin believes you shall be fully healed within the next few days, if you eat."

"By old and new, Jon, I will eat!" she said, exasperated almost.

"Thank the gods," he mumbled.

"But I shall only eat stew. I can no longer _stand_ this wretched plain broth," Amirina complained, lifting her nose in the air.

Jon could only stare at her, his face blank and the bags beneath his eyes darkening with each second passing. "Amirina-"

The Martell girl began laughing then, a wide smile on her still pale features. "Oh gods Jon, I am simply jesting with you!" She then took the bowl from his hands and began eating it as best she could with the limit of her left shoulder.

Jon rolled his eyes and ran a hand down his face, feeling scruff around his jawline. He would need to go see…gods what was his name. He shook his head. He was far too tired to think of names at the moment.

"How long has it been?" Amirina suddenly asked.

"Since when?" Jon responded, his eyes tired and heavy.

Amirina set her bowl on the bedside table and leaned forward towards Jon. She placed a hand on his face and rubbed slightly with her thumb, then drew back, her eyes worried. "Since ya last slept, Jon."

He shrugged, pulling back from the close space between them, the voice whispering in his ear once more. His face was ablaze with what felt like tingling where she had placed her hand. He had to ignore the nameless feeling.

"I'm not sure," he answered truthfully. "I've slept, but I have yet to truly sleep. Most of the time I've been worried for you. It's been nearly a week since ya last ate. I grew far more anxious as the days wore on."

He watched as Amirina's worried features changed to ones of sadness and guilt. Her eyes were dark today, he realized. He wondered if it was because she still felt the cold nipping at her flesh every few moments. A crease formed between her brows and her lips formed a frown. Her freckles popped out a little more upon her cheeks, but stayed rather unseen to the eyes. Her hair was rather messy, but Catelyn has ensured to take the time Jon was gone to fix the girl's hair as best she could. And funnily enough, the left side of Rina's face was red, probably aching from laying on that side of her face at all times.

"Your face," he said quietly, reaching out to lightly grace over it, "does it bother you?"

Amirina closed her eyes lightly but opened them quickly, and shook her head. "No, it bothers me not."

Jon brought his hand back and took in a deep breath. He stood from his chair and moved to the left side of the bed, motioning for Amirina to lean forward.

"I need to check on your burn, cousin," he said simply, knowing Luwin was with Bran at the moment, but Rina was due for a checking. They had been continuously checking the effects of the ground onions and lavender. So far, it had done quite well. It would definitely leave scarring, but it would not threaten her in the future.

The Martell girl nodded and leaned forward so Jon would have better ability with working with the wrapping. He undid the large and long cloth before lifting the fresh poultice. The burn was definitely still there. He grimaced thinking about how it got there, but he would let Amirina tell him that tale on her own should she wish. It looked like a center point and five tendrils pulling away from it. It was rather weirdly shaped but the skin was healing over and scarring at the outermost and thinnest points. The center was still rather raw and Jon would have to tell Luwin about that.

He shrugged through and began rewrapping the poultice so it could soak through. He also admittedly made it a bit tighter, hoping that would help as well. Jon carefully wound the cloth as he had seen Luwin do so before, hoping he would not mess it up. He didn't seem to actually.

"Rina," he started, finishing the clippings necessary to keep the cloth in place, "I'll need ya to finish the broth and tea and then rest a bit more. I know you've been sleeping for quite some time, but now you need to truly sleep."

He stepped back and began to walk over to the counter, hoping to prepare her tea.

"Alright, dear cousin," she caved, probably rolling her eyes behind his back as she did so.

Jon chuckled lightly and finished readying the sage tea, but he needed the leaves to steep for a moment. He decided now was a better time than ever to tell her the news.

"So," he gulped lightly, rubbing the back of his neck, "the Tyrells rescinded their offers of betrothal for 'further discussion'. I believe the sister was jealous of your beauty and-" Jon realized he had called her beautiful. He didn't mean to, it had slipped out. It was an internal musing that would occasionally slip from his lips. But he had to continue speaking, he couldn't draw attention to the word.

"Uh, well I believe she may have coerced her brother, Willas, into rethinking the proposition." He shut his eyes tightly and began to rub the sleep from them, feeling the heaviness wanting to overtake his current state.

Amirina stayed quiet for a moment, Jon opening his eyes to see her thinking. But that moment didn't last very long, as she quickly broke into a smile and began laughing.

"I've warded off the beast!" she laughed with good jest. "Ahhh, I love when a man rethinks his poor judgement to marry me, do you not?"

Jon wanted to say yes.

"Amirina," he took in a deep breath, "you are to now marry Jon Umber, the Smalljon, within the next three moons."

And Jon could see how the quick information came like a slap to the face. Amirina's features dropped and her eyes widened. Her mouth was left lightly agape and something must have been buzzing around in her mind. He wished it weren't true, he truly did, but he expected it. He didn't like it, not at all, but he was realistic.

"Rina, my father-"

She shook her head and put her hand up, wanting him to stop. " _Don't_ , Jon. It is already horrible enough that I will have to call him by your name, reminding me each and every day that I am away from you: my best friend, my cousin, my most trusted believer. I will be reminded of that every time the sun rises to the time the sun sets to the time between when dreams run through my head."

But Jon already knew that he ran through her mind after the sun set and before the sun rose. He had heard her saying his name within her sleep. And sometimes, he had to leave so that whisper in his head would not grow louder. Or leave so that that feeling would leave his body. Or leave so that that feeling of pride would leave his chest at once. And right now, he had all three plaguing him.

But he could not just leave the tower for some fresh air. His cousin was awake this time. He could only comfort her and hope the feelings and words left him quickly, lest he feared for what would happen to him down the path.

So, carefully, he walked over to the bed and sat down on it. His cousin looked near tears and he knew Amirina did not shed tears that much. She was in need of comfort, and despite how uncomfortable Jon was at the moment, he would be there for her. So he sat next to her and opened his arms, allowing her to lean over and rest her head upon his shoulder. He used his left arm to rub her arm up and down in comfort like she had done for him before. It was causing discomfort to tingle within his fingertips to the balls of his feet. But that pride…it swelled slightly. And that other tingling, the far more pleasant one, it tickles his face and his chest and his hand.

He didn't want to feel it, but he did. And he hated it. He couldn't name it, but it plagued him now. He knew he shouldn't. Gods it was his cousin he felt it with. That wasn't right. He suddenly closed his eyes and tried to force the good feeling down and the tingling of discomfort to the forefront.

"It shall all work out, Rina," he comforted, his eyes still shut. "You shall be near to us and you shall be treated well. Maester Luwin and father believe the man to be infatuated with you. You will be in good hands." But not as good of hands as mine own

Jon felt her nod against his shoulder and he could not hear what she said, for the words she had mumbled in her sleep last eve had only invigorated the good feelings that plagued him. And he could never forget those words.

 _Jon leaned down, his cousin speaking once more. She had yet to wake, but he was growing anxious with her speaking and approaching a time when she could be awake._

 _She was mumbling, obviously voicing sentences from her daze. "Jon…"_

 _He wasn't surprised by her use of his name now, more of a confirmation that he was there._

 _"Yes, Rina? I'm still here, cousin."_

 _She gave a lazy smile and he felt her hand twitch slightly as if trying to tighten her grip._

 _"I quiteeeee like ya, Jon Snow," she whispered, so quietly that the bastard could almost not hear her._

 _And he wish he hadn't._

Jon opened his eyes then and looked over at his cousin. He would need to pull away from her. He could not let such a…such a thing ever bud. He would cut the roots from their water, and he would distance himself from his cousin. Perhaps she would hate him for becoming distant, but he could live with that. He couldn't live with what ran through his mind. Amirina Martell had a duty. Jon Snow had a duty.

It mattered not if he interpreted it incorrectly, or if it was dazed and confused ramblings by his cousin. Jon Snow would distance himself from Amirina until she forgot about him and until he forgot about her.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Don't worry loves, all will be revealed in due time ;)_

 _For everyone who is confused by my god-awful timeline, here ya go!_

Early 257 AC- Oberyn Martell is born

Late 262 AC\- Katerina Martell is born

Early 266 AC- Jaime Lannister and Cersei Lannister are born

Around 275 AC- Katerina and Oberyn marry; Elios is also born around this time as well

Near end of 277 AC- The twins are born: Doran and Eliana

Beginning of 281 AC\- The Tourney at Harrenhal occurs; Katerina and Jaime meet and begin affair

Around End of 281 AC- Amirina Martell is born

Beginning of 282 AC- Lyanna Stark is "kidnapped" by Rhaegar Targaryen; Jon Snow is born some nine months later; Robb Stark is born around end of 282 AC

Sometime around end of 282 AC to mid 283 AC- Katerina Martell and her first three children are found dead in the middle of Dornish desert

285 AC- Sansa Stark is born

287 AC- Arya Stark is born

288 AC- Brandon "Bran" Stark is born; Amirina visits a little soon after

292 AC- Rickon Stark is born

296 AC- My story begins

298 AC- Canon begins

 _I hope that clears things up for everyone!_

 _ **Evaline101** : Yes, that will be confusing. And I apologize for that. It is not confirmed however. Jaime doesn't know for sure that the girl was his. It will be revealed in due time but for now, I will drop hints as to who the father truly is. I like to add a bit of mystery, as cuckolding was quite the…trade. Thank you for the review love!_

 _ **Marvelmyra** : Since you are catching up and have so many reviews, I was going to address each one individually, but that'll be a bit too much I believe. I hope you'll be able to create an account and follow this story, as I believe you will continue to enjoy it. Thank you :)_

 _ **Arianna** : She could be, it is all up to his own assumptions and we shall find out later in the story ;)_

 _ **10868letsgo** : Jaime COULD be her father. There will be no confirmation for the negative or positive until later in the story. It is simply an assumption by Jaime. Infidelity was not uncommon during this time, so I didn't want to make Amirina's mom this perfect woman that everyone saw, but that she was in fact cuckolding Oberyn, just as he was to her. She was definitely good at pointing rumors away and ceasing Oberyn's suspicions._


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N:** More jumping around. I will indicate how long it has been :)_

 _And as for accents, to clarify, accents are difficult to write. George RR Martin is a god for being able to do so. I personally don't have a ton of time to focus on accents, as I focus more on how people spoke. And a lot of characters, despite having thick accents like GreatJon Umber, do hit vowels and constatants that I write. And a lot of characters do have highborn accents, like Jon and Samwell, so that's even harder. I hope y'all understand. I will try to focus more on those however!_

 _Thank you!_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own shit still. And some language throughout. But if ya watch the show, I doubt ya will care.**_

* * *

Amirina sat quietly in front of the heart tree. Her head was bowed and her lips moved silently. Her hair was pulled back from her face and into a braid at the back of her head. Her face was quite pale compared to her color in the summer in Dorne. Rosy red covered the tip of her nose and a little of her cheeks. Snow fell gently today. The wind was light but colder than usual. And yet Amirina still sat there, praying to the gods of old.

It had been a fortnight since she fully woke up. It had been the same amount of time since she had spoken to Jon. Her heart cracked at the thought of him. Robb claimed that the boy was busy most of the time, so he took her free time instead. She didn't mind too much, but it hurt to think that Jon seemed to suddenly avoid her in every possible situation. Perhaps it was for the best, she tried to reason. She was busy with the Smalljon a lot of the time and was having to begin preparing for a wedding. A wedding she did not want.

However, the pairing could be worse, she supposed. He wasn't awful company and the man was quite charming. The dark glint within his eyes she had seen during their dance had yet to make a second appearance. The man seemed, normal. A bit rough around the edges, but he seemed rather interesting when not drunk.

They walked every day. Usually around the grounds or into the Godswood. They would sometimes pray together and then resume their conversation by either sitting by the small pond or by walking around the snow-covered woods. It was…calming. She didn't love the man, not at all. But she wondered if she could. If she could do what her mother did once before and fall in love with a man bound to her by duty.

Amirina's face dropped then, the memory of the last dream she had souring her mood. She had not told a single soul, and she would more than likely take it to her grave. People became too…curious once someone started asking around. Despite her need to satiate her questions about who her father was or wasn't and about how her mother died, she would not speak a word of either subject. Never again. She would not risk being given the title of bastard. She would not risk losing her title as Princess of Dorne. It kept her safe and most importantly, it gave her power.

She shook her head and lifted it, looking upon the bleeding face carved into the great weirwood tree. Rina reached out and placed her hand upon it, hoping the gods of the wood would speak with her. At least give her a sign, a whisper. Anything. She just wished for a sign that the events that should pass would be events of benefit and good. It was all she could wish for. She could not wish for a marriage filled with love, but she could wish for one void of pain. She could not wish for sons, but she could wish for healthy children. She could not wish for a long life, but she could wish for one of health. She learned once to never ask the gods for too much. She would never do it again.

Amirina then stood from her kneeling and turned to see the Smalljon staring at her. She cocked an eyebrow, "Well, now what is it? Do I look a fool with all of this damned snow?"

He chuckled and stood from his own spot of prayer. "Aye, it's strange to see a snake in the snow."

The Umber son then dusted some of the snow from atop Amirina's head, his giant form hulking over her. She rolled her eyes and laughed lightly.

"By the old and new, just because you are taller than me by more than a body, does not mean you can dust snow off of my hair," Amirina huffed, placing her hands upon her hips.

"I will be your husband in two moons, I shall do as I please," he smirked beneath his wiry brunet beard.

Amirina had to keep herself from laughing, her smile threatening to break her façade. "Oh?"

"Mmhmm." The Smalljon nodded, a smile already having broken past his lips.

"Hmm," Amirina pondered, "I suppose you can no longer be my betrothed."

Amirina then began to walk away, but the Smalljon quickly caught her arm. "And where do ya think you're going? Hmm?"

The Martell spun to face her future husband and looked up to him, mischief sparkling in her oak eyes. "Why, to speak with my dear uncle. He shall settle the matter."

The Smalljon pushed up and eyebrow and chuckled low, pulling Amirina closer to him. "I believe we may be able to settle the matter here."

"Is that so?"

"Aye," he mumbled, his eyes taking on a dark glint that Amirina knew men were famous for.

But before the large men could bend down to do as he wished, a young voice called out in the snow-covered Godswood.

"Rina!"

Said girl smirked then, looking up to the man. "Duty calls."

The Smalljon shook his head with a laugh and instead grasped Amirina's hand, placing a kiss to the back of it. "I believe it to be your dress."

"I hope to the gods that it is not," she confessed, an exasperated tone accompanying her. "But my Aunt has told me that it shall be over soon. Then I must help with planning for the readying of the ceremony."

The Smalljon gave a light chortle and shook his head. "Well, go Rina. I must write my sisters anyways. I shall with my father this eve, but I shall break my fast with you on the morrow?"

Amirina smiled, and for one of the first times since she awoke, it was genuine. "That sounds wonderful. I shall see you on the morrow."

And with that, Amirina walked away to go find Sansa, the girl who had called her.

* * *

"The sari should be able to rest around the waist," the thick accent of Nalia filled the room. "I fail to see why it must be white."

The Dornish woman of peak beauty leaned back slightly and studied the cream colored dress with obvious disdain, her hip popping slightly and her arms crossed. "Why not red? Red is regal. Red is power. White? No. White is weak."

Amirina could not help but laugh at the woman's comments. For a surprise, Amirina's former handmaiden had been given passage to Winterfell to ensure Dornish traditions were kept intact. She was only twenty and three, but she acted like an old woman who knew all while everyone else stared dumbfounded. Apparently, her uncle had sent the woman up to Winterfell when the girl had fallen ill, as it would line up with discussions with the Tyrells. Instead, she was perfect in timing with arriving a fortnight after she fell ill for the planning of the wedding between her and the Smalljon.

"Well, that's how we color things 'ere," Renee replied sassily, rolling her eyes and slightly adjusting her red mane.

Nalia tsked and approached Amirina, who was wearing the middle stages of her wedding gown. It was beautiful. It was fitted mainly, following Dornish traditions of tight clothing but following Northern traditions of full coverage. The sleeves stopped on the shoulders and the neckline went up a little on her neck, giving a collar; however, the neckline opened in the middle and gave a thin line of skin down to the bottom of her breasts. The material was a bit tough, giving a thickness to help combat the cold. Flower detailing was being stitched on, in cream lace and satin. Her sari was supposed to attach at the bottom of her left breast, be pulled up to her right shoulder and attach there as well, giving a drape effect. Then it was to fall down her right side and be pulled across the bottom front of the dress up to her left hip. The sheen fabric was whiter than her dress and draped over the front beautifully Amirina thought. But Nalia disagreed.

"No," she said, taking a pin from a seamstress and placing it at a higher point on her shoulder. "The sari must be here, not twice on the front of her body."

The quiet girl only nodded as grasped more pins to attach the fabric to the nearly complete dress.

"Will you not be placing it over your hair?" Nalia asked, tapping her chin lightly.

"Ya don't cover yer hair in Northern weddings," Renee chimed in, obviously furious with Nalia's incessant complaining.

The Dornish woman gave a huff of annoyance and frustration. "No red. No sari upon your hair. Fuck the damn North," she muttered angrily.

Amirina smiled lightly and grabbed Nalia's shoulders lightly. "Nalia, you may do my hair if that pleases you and sates your arguments," she offered, hoping the older woman would agree.

The woman rolled her eyes and gave in, "I suppose that will be appropriate." She then motioned for Amirina to bend down slightly, as if to fix her hair. She began playing and twisting curls into the dark mass of hair. "You have practiced your vows, no?"

Renee then gave a laugh and walked up to the other side of Amirina, fixing one of the flower designs being laced onto her dress. "We don't do vows 'ere, like ya southerners do."

Amirina suddenly felt awful for her old handmaid. The woman looked as though she was about to collapse from surprise.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, Amirina suddenly wishing Renee had not spoken. "Rina," the woman started, "your worship consists of that to the Seven, no?"

"Nay, Rina 'ere worships the gods o' the forest." Renee smirked, pleased with the frustration of the tanned woman.

"Nalia," Amirina started, shooting a look at her new handmaid, "you know my father's lack of faith. I was raised Dornish, but I was raised Northern in faith."

"Yes, I know," she conceded, making eye contact with the Martell. "I simply wish that your father had raised you fully, no?"

Amirina smiled and nodded in agreement, suddenly wrapping her arms around the beautiful woman who more oft than not, held the attentions of her father.

"I will still wear the Martell cloak, and I will keep the Martell name. Worry not, Nalia. I am simply marrying a man. I am not forgetting my family," she reassured, her voice firm and constant.

Nalia smiled and hugged Amirina back before stepping back and wiping her eyes quickly. She looked around and noticed that all the seamstresses had paused. "You think we have time to pause? No. Keep working. We have little time."

Amirina couldn't help but smile.

* * *

Beautiful winter roses grew in the glass gardens of Winterfell. Women sought after them for their scent or their color. Men sought after them for their allure to women. Amirina's aunt was crowned with them at the Tourney at Harrenhal. A rebellion started on a small crown of them.

Amirina smiled at the blue roses and kneeled down in front of a bush. Her fingers delicately traced the petals, finding pleasure within their texture. Amirina loved roses. They were her favorite of the flowers. In Dorne, they had tiger-striped roses of all colors. Every year, for her nameday, when she was there, her father gifted her was a new plot of them in the gardens. It was why her father called her "his desert rose". They were not as beautiful as the gardens in their summer home, but they still held beauty beyond compare. Nothing was similar to them.

Carefully picking one from a bush, Amirina held it in her palm, studying the beautiful designs that few cared to see. Yes, it was the color of frost. But it was so much more. The blue was deep within the center of the rose, much like that of the ocean once one was far enough. Trails of such a blue tried escaping out onto the frost petals, but they died off quickly and allowed the lighter blue to take reign. The petals were delicate and could weaken easily, but if one held them softly enough, they would stay strong, as they did in the winter.

"Have you convinced him?" came the voice of Catelyn Stark, Eddard's wife and counsel.

Amirina smiled grimly and stood from her spot. "I believe so."

The Tully woman smiled sadly and walked over to Rina, her hands languidly clasped together.

"I am sorry, Amirina," she apologized suddenly, her ice blue eyes showing a sudden remorse with her words. "I waned for Ned to deny it. To not agree. But he did. I could not whisk him away from such a thought while the Lord Umber and his son sat in the same room. I could not refuse his authority in such a manner, my dear."

Amirina shook her head, "Don't fret, Aunt Cat. It matters not anymore. I shall become his wife in a matter of fortnights and I can not change the course of fate. It was due to befall me at some point."

Catelyn smiled lightly and looked down at the rose sitting in Amirina's hand. "You're fond of the rose?"

The young girl chuckle, "I admire roses, far too much perhaps. I suppose I shall be similar to my aunt in such a way. Strange is it not?" She then gave a mirthless chortle. "One aunt _crowned_ with them. Another _betrayed_ with them."

"Do not have your mind in such a dark place, Amirina. It suits you not at the moment," Catelyn scolded, her tone serious, yet concerned.

The older woman then changed the subject, hoping for information on how the courting was proceeding. She linked her arm with Amirina's and began leading her out of the glass gardens.

"How is your betrothed acting, perchance?" she wondered curiously, looking at her niece.

Amirina chuckled and a small smile lifted her lips. "His voice is strange to me. But all men outside of Dorne sound strange to me. It is odd though. When I first met him, he was drunk with mead. His words were less…"

"Pronounced?" Catelyn offered.

"Yes. His words were less pronounced than when he fails to drink. It is as if he is a different man with a drink," she commented, her features scrunched with confusion.

"All men are different with drink, my dear."

"I suppose you are right, Aunt Cat," Amirina conceded, nodding her head.

The two exited the glass structure, their conversation flowing lightly as snow began to fall sparsely upon them.

"And his actions? Temperament? Is he good to you?"

Amirina sighed for a moment, contemplating what she would answer. "He is kind as of yet. He holds a model of humor I find interesting. Quite a bit taller than myself, but not hulking in mannerisms. He touches me as he should. He has not done things I have not wished him to do. Rather forward for a man, but he has been good to me."

Catelyn nodded in contentment with her answer, a surprised look upon her aging features. "Have you acted as I have said?"

"I have been kind. I have shown him interest that while I do not often wish to show, I do. I act as though I am absolutely enraptured by his words. I act as any woman who is betrothed should act with her future husband," she explained truthfully. "However, I have found myself genuinely finding…happiness perhaps with him at times. It is hard not to. We walk and pray at the heart tree nearly every day. We often break our fasts in each other's company. And sometimes, we shall even dine with one another in the eves."

Catelyn looked over at Amirina and the girl was giving a small smile. Yet something still plagued her, and while she failed to recognize that she showed it, Catelyn noticed.

"What plagues your mind?" she asked.

Amirina looked over at her aunt and gave a sigh. "It is a small matter, hardly large enough a concern to worry."

Rina then caught the cocked eyebrow of disbelief on her aunt's face and rolled her eyes a moment. "It is a matter of not knowing a reason for an action."

Catelyn was curious now. "Oh? And what is said action?"

Rina looked down upon the rose and in her mind, she knew it was wrong to say. The rose symbolized what happened when one followed their heart. And Amirina wanted only to follow the reason for why her heart hurt. But her mind spoke against such an action.

"How did you come to love my uncle, Aunt Cat?" she asked suddenly, her heart reigning for a moment.

Her aunt was obviously caught off guard, as the woman stopped walking before questioning the girl's reasons for inquiring about such a thing.

"There is a man. A boy still, really," Amirina started, not wishing to reveal who she spoke of. "I find myself…interested in him in ways I should not be. He warms my heart in ways I can not simply describe. I know him. I truly do. We can not be one with another, but I understand why. Yet, no matter what, he shall never feel the same for me, and I know it. It is because he is too good. Too good a man to risk giving my own heart a chance to love him. He ignores me, and I do not know why. I have said nothing of my feelings for him, yet he fails to return my requests to see him. It was so sudden, I-"

"Amirina."

"Yes?"

Catelyn sat upon the ground suddenly, taking Amirina by surprise. But the girl followed her actions and sat across from her aunt.

"I did not love Ned. Not at first, you know that. Gods, I have told you this story many a times and I feel as though you must hear it once more," she laughed lightly, receiving a laugh from Amirina as well.

"I was in love with another. Brandon Stark. And while I was due to become his wife, he died in the rebellion. So I was set to become your uncle's wife. It did not matter that I loved another before Ned. It mattered that I grew to love Ned. I did not forget Brandon, but I moved past him. It is what you shall have to do to be happy in your marriage. The man you speak of, he probably does not hate you nor feel a lack of love for you. In fact, I dare say he might love you or feel close to such a feeling if he is willing to step away from you in such a way."

Amirina's heart wanted to believe the last part, but her mind told her not to. Rina only wished it could be correct. If only it was.

The older woman then placed her hands over Amirina's own and retracted the winter rose from her grasp. She placed it upon the snow between the two of them and made sure it stood upright in the white powder.

"Now, my dear, do not allow the snow to envelop you. Grow. Grow despite whatever it shall pile upon you. Grow with beauty as the rose does. Grow in the winter. Do not allow the winter to cease your successes. Allow no one to threaten who you are. Be the strength you need, for no one else will provide it. Be who you must to survive, for no one will tell you who are. Do not let yourself become enraptured by another. Do not end up like your aunts. If you do, you will not survive the winter."

* * *

"A betrothal feast, ha!" Theon mocked, his laugh filling the air.

"Come now, Theon. It shall be 'er last feast 'ere," Robb reasoned, smirking at the unnecessary actions. "We know what shall 'appen on the eve of the weddin'."

"The Smalljon shall 'ave a feast," Theon cackled, clapping Robb on the shoulder.

Robb joined in on the laughing, ignoring the fact that his heart hurt slightly. And Jon saw it. He saw how his brother hurt with the mention of another man finally having Amirina. Jon knew he would be able to get over his silly crush and move on with his life. And this was exactly the way to do so.

Theon then turned his attention to the quiet bastard.

"Come now, Snow, what do ya think about yer cousin gettin' fucked by a giant?" he taunted, raising an eyebrow as the bastard's jaw was shaved.

"I think that it's 'er business, and that the two of ya should keep your mouths shut," he snapped, his voice holding a quiet anger. He was avoiding Amirina by all means necessary, yes, but he was doing it to avoid anything from arising. The voice in his ear had silenced and that gnawing at the back of his mind had ceased to exist. He kept himself busy and it was enough to ruin all of those distractions.

Theon laughed at his response and nudged Robb. "It's 'er business, eh?"

Robb rolled his eyes and chuckled lightly. "I s'ppose it is, Theon. But this is still…" he paused, "a family matter. We should know what is goin' on, shouldn't we?"

Jon threw a look to his brother, surprised by his lack of care for the situation. "Our cousin is marryin' a man against 'er wishes, and ya think it's okay to jest about it?"

Robb shrugged then, "Our cousin keeps askin' for ya, and ya think it's okay to keep avoidin' 'er?"

Jon silenced himself, knowing that Robb had caught him. His brother was right, and once again, he hated him for it. Tommy finished shaving his face then, patting him on the shoulders and ushering him up. Jon took the cue and stood from the bench, allowing Robb to pass him and take his place.

"When is yer cousin's weddin'? I want to look my best fer 'er," Theon chimed in, a cocky glint in his blue eyes.

Robb looked up, as if imagining the time before her wedding. "It should be soon. I believe I heard mother sayin' it was sometime next week. Can't believe it's already been two moons," he trailed off at the end.

Jon shook his head in disbelief as well, surprised time had moved so quickly. Soon, Amirina would become an Umber. Soon, she would leave for The Last Hearth. Soon, she would miss his nameday. And she would miss Robb's as well. Soon, she would not likely visit much, but Jon told himself he was alright with such a development. It would ensure the cessation of that damned feeling.

"Damn the gods o' old and new," Theon cursed, his voice playful despite the words. "I shall 'ave to wait fer 'er visits to see that glorious ass."

Robb laughed, causing Jon to clench his fists. "Ya never seen it, Theon. Ya only wish ya 'ave."

"I'll see it one o' these days. Mark my words Stark. Yer cousin will grow tired o' her Smalljon and crawl to me as she should," Theon said, his voice serious despite the joke within his words.

"Sure she will," Robb joked, winking to Theon in good jest.

Yet, Jon clenched his fists tightly, angered by such descriptions of his cousin. She was his best friend, his only friend. And yet, he stood there, saying nothing in defense of her. He couldn't, not really, and he knew that but didn't want to admit it. He feared the crossing words that would lash him should he speak out his frustrations. He failed to want to protect her image more, than wanting to avoid backlash from his brother or his father's ward.

* * *

Amirina sat beside the Smalljon, her oak eyes staring out upon the sea of people. They were searching for one person specifically. She knew that he would be forced to come. It was out of respect that he would. Yet, she could not find the bastard son of Ned Stark.

"Are ya _expectin_ ' someone?" the man whispered in her ear, causing her back to straighten. It wasn't the surprise of his sudden voice that shocked her. It was how he spoke. It was like a wolf growling when guarding its spoils of a hunt.

Amirina turned to face the man, her heart trying to slow its rapid beating. She gave him a reassuring smile that did not reflect her inner feelings. "I am, in fact. I can not seem to find my little cousin Arya. See how she has failed to appear?"

And thankfully, she was correct. Arya Stark had failed to show, which was expected. The little spitfire was a demon when trying to ready her for feasts. Amirina wouldn't be surprised if Renee was arguing with the girl right now on how she had to wear a dress. Amirina smiled at the thought of the two girls going after one another. Renee, an older girl who could tame anyone who tried to disagree with her. And Arya, the girl of nine namedays now who was wishing to be a knight. It rather amused Amirina.

Despite finding the feast so unnecessary, Amirina agreed to it for her Aunt Catelyn and for Nalia. Catelyn thought, that due to the wedding being that of the Old faith, that there should be a feast to celebrate their betrothal to honor Amirina's culture and family's beliefs. For those who followed the New faith, there were many feasts for the weddings. There was none for the Old faith. Nalia quickly agreed to such an idea and instantly began to help Amirina's aunt with the planning. She found it intriguing that her aunt and Nalia quickly began to work together so efficiently and amicably, as both women were stubborn beyond compare.

Snapping back to reality, Amirina realized her betrothed was pleased with her answer, as he sat back in his chair and let his eyes wander among the people who sat at the tables below.

He grabbed his goblet and took a large swing of whatever drink he had asked for. Amirina could not remember but she felt as though it could possibly be mead. Winterfell could not usually afford the types of wines that most in the South enjoyed. Arbor Gold was a sweet white wine that Amirina had tasted a few times before. But, like most Dornishmen, she preferred the strong spice of Dornish wine. In fact, she preferred spice in all of her meals and drinks, but that was something she was going to have to give up.

Amirina grasped her own goblet, hoping for simple water but was dissatisfied with the taste of honey but not sweet, and alcohol burning her throat. She grimaced lightly and quickly placed her goblet down, hoping the taste would disappear with some of the venison that was being placed in front of everyone currently.

A hand was suddenly placed on Amirina's thigh, and quite high, not to mention. She resisted the urge to jump and tried to calm her once again racing heart. She looked down and realized the Smalljon had placed his rather large hand upon her and seemed to be holding on. She forced a smile and looked over at him, expecting him to speak.

But he didn't. He stayed silent and continued drinking his mead.

Amirina took in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. She would have to get used to such behavior. She was to be his wife, she rationalized. He was simply growing…protective, yes. Perhaps a man had been staring at her as a man does his wife, and perhaps he was wanting to ensure said man did not stare any longer. Yes, that was what was occurring, she thought. With that, her heart failed to beat against her chest, as if it were trying to leave her.

"Are ya ready to leave once the weddin' is over?" her future husband asked suddenly, grabbing her immediate attention.

She cocked an eyebrow but nodded her head. "Yes, I have a few more belongings that I must pack, but I shall be ready by the eve on the morrow. Why, may I ask?"

The man grunted in satisfaction and took another drink of his alcohol. "We shall leave fer The Last 'earth the morn after the weddin'," he explained, the alcohol entering his words. Amirina suddenly remembered how he had looked upon her when he was drunk. Now, his words were slipping into how they had been that night as well.

"I shall have time to say my farewells, yes?" she asked, her voice a bit stronger than she expected. It ended up sounding more like a statement than a question.

Her betrothed looked over at her and gave a smirk beneath his wiry beard. "Aye, ya will 'ave yer time. I _doubt_ ya will want it, though."

Amirina crinkled her eyebrows then, confused as to what he meant. "I'm sorry, why would I not want it?"

The man gave a loud laugh, as if hysterical from the question. "Oh lass, I forgot 'ow innocent ya are," he said quieter than his laugh thankfully. He then leaned next to her and whispered into her ear. "Ya will be too tired from _fookin_ ' that ya either won't want to wake or ya will want more."

He leaned back with a large grin upon his face and a chortle escaping his lips. Amirina, on the other hand, sat stiffly in her seat, her cheeks burning from the idea. She was no dumb girl and knew about the art of sex. She was raised by Oberyn Martell by old and new, of course she knew about sex. But this man…he did not treat it like an art that her father proclaimed it to be. She was comfortable with the idea that she was raised with in Dorne. _Sex_ was a passion that two or more shared with each other. It was not simply "fucking" until one was too tired to wake. And that was what scared her. She was no innocent virgin who had never even heard of the term. No, she was a virgin in only the physical term. Yet, the Smalljon…he made it into a whole other form that Amirina was clueless to. And she was terrified of that.

She looked down at the venison upon her plate and began to eat, wanting a distraction from the vile thoughts in her mind. Terrified and vile thoughts. Just what would he do to her on their wedding night? By the old it scared it her. He acted as thought it were some thing that she should know of. She knew of sex. She knew of making love to the one you loved. She knew not of fucking, and it seemed as though the Smalljon only knew of that. With that thought, Amirina took her goblet and drank the remainder of the wretched alcohol as quickly as possible, hoping to drown the horrors in her mind.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Ahhh! So major skipping in this chapter. I hope you all understand how I now want things to flow. And I hope you all understand how Amirina is superficial with the Smalljon, but does find something interesting about him when he is sober. I want to mix the novel version of him with the tv version and kinda doing it with sober vs drunk. So I hope ya understand that! And I hope I did much better with accents! I think I did okay! I really did try! And if I have time, I will go back and edit previous chapters for that._

 _Anyways, major question. Wedding is next chapter. It will be detailed. But the bedding? Do ya guys want me to ramp it up to M-rating, as it eventually will be. Or would ya rather I wait for that and kinda skim over it. Either way, I'm fine! Just let me know! It's crucial._

 _Thank you all again for the amazing support and love! Happy New Year as well!_

 _Love,_

 _P_

 _ **Arianna** : I'm sorry my love! It must happen! Don't worry. Things will be very difficult, but Amirina will prevail for the reasons you stated exactly. She is strong. Thank you for the love and continued reviews! I love them!_

 _ **Evaline101** : Ahh yes! There will be a few much later in the story. But it shall be very interesting when we see them! Thank you love!_

 _ **Marvelmyra** : I will think on those pairings, but I doubt they will occur. I have most of the story planned out and I don't believe I have those in store. And thank you for pointing out accents love, you're not the first. You're just the kindest actually. I hope I did better this chapter. And yes, Ned is not the brightest for this match, and neither is Doran. Catelyn gave the nod because she shouldn't openly defy her husband in front of his bannermen despite her concerns. And the reason for her having an affair shall be revealed later on, but with her being from a strictly monogamous style culture, I believe the ideas of paramours of Dorne sort of freaked her out and deeply hurt her, so she turned to where she wouldn't be betrayed in such a way. And the answers to your questions will be revealed in due time :) thank you for your continued reviews!_


	14. Chapter 14

**_A/N:_** _I decided to skip over most of the bedding, thank you maartenvervloet. I decided such a thing would be best suited for Amirina with someone she actually cares for. It's not that I can't write it, but as maarten pointed out, a matter of flow. So story will stay rated T for now :)_

 _I also know how a lot of people believe Dorne to represent Spain, but I've always seen it to represent India. And since my mother is Indian, traditions for that are easier to relate to._

 _Hope y'all enjoy!_

 _ **Disclaimer: Still don't own GOT. Again, language this chapter and warning for references to sex.**_

* * *

Amirina sat quietly. Nalia stood behind her and hummed as she tried different things with Amirina's hair. The Martell girl watched in the mirror as the dark woman twisted strands of brunette curls. Whilst Nalia did so, Amirina began looking down at the choices of jewelry available. Dornish women of highborn status often donned a maang tikka, or an ornament that hung from the center of the woman's hairline. They then wore earrings and necklaces of similar beauty and style.

Nalia had brought Amirina multiple sets of jewelry to choose from, as Winterfell lacked such a type of Dornish ornament. And while she found the pieces beautiful, Amirina failed to want them. Not to mention, Nalia was trying to convince her to don a nose chain, but Rina did not want to wear the jewelry. She would need to pierce her left nostril with a pole and then place a decorated ring there. And Amirina truly was not a fan of that. Her ears had bled and hurt her enough when she pierced them. She grimaced at the thought of what it would feel like if it were her nostril.

"Your curls," Nalia murmured, picking one up and twirling it around her finger, "why do they flatten so?"

Amirina looked into the mirror and made eye contact with the woman. "I am not certain, Nalia, but perhaps it is due to my drying of it this morn? I failed to brush it immediately after my bathing."

The older woman tsked and gave a huff of frustration. She then gently grabbed handfuls of Amirina's hair, staring at them with confusion. "What am I to do with this mane, hmm, little viper?"

"Did my mother not have her own braided to the side?" Amirina inquired, suddenly remembering the blurry image that haunted her dream. The dream of a woman and man being married, a woman she assumed was her mother. She remembered her hair was loosely braided on the thicker side of her hair part, trailing down her shoulder. Amirina didn't seem clear details, but she remembered the image of the shape.

The woman nodded her head and sighed, "My mother braided her hair, told me a few years later how beautiful yet sad a bride she was."

Nalia began to part Amirina's hair to the left. "How was she sad?"

"She was young to be married. Ten and three. Marrying a man of ten and eight. By the Seven, my mother thought it awful. Your mother apparently grew sick after birthing her first child, a sickly boy. She was too young to have a child. But she healed and had two more, twins," Nalia described her mother's accounts, her fingers beginning to braid strands of Amirina's hair.

"My mother, Riene, was a good woman. She was strong, like all Dornish woman. She was your mother's trusted friend. She knew who your mother was."

"Who was my mother?" Amirina inquired curiously, watching her brunette hair being pulled and twisted.

"A sad woman who played the role of a happy wife, or so my mother claimed. Your father is not a loyal man. He loves one woman far greater than the rest, but he opens his heart to all. It is Dornish custom. Your mother was a Northener. She expected loyalty and was greeted with reality. Despite your father's affections, your mother found his infidelities offensive and heartbreaking, for he had sworn to take no other woman to bed other than your mother. He broke that promise quickly, and your mother found out, yet kept such a discovery to herself.

"She spoke to my mother a lot, I remember very little, as I was merely six namedays when she birthed you. I remember a lot of crying however, on my mother's part and on your own. I believe your mother had another man, a man who was faithful to her heart and body and soul. Yet, I'm not quite sure if that was my young mind hearing that or if it was spoken for certain. Either way, your mother died and with her, so did my mother. Not together, but my mother died of heartache from losing her friend. Or so Prince Oberyn told me as a child," Nalia finished, her voice quiet and slightly quivering.

"Why did my mother not understand the Dornish custom?" Amirina asked suddenly. "And who is responsible for the death of my mother?"

Nalia chuckled lightly, "Oh, dear child, you know how easy it is for one to be sucked into the fantasy of a beautiful marriage. Your mother was no different. She believed that she was loved above all others. She was ten and three when she married, did you expect her to know better of the custom of paramours?

"And who is to know? Your uncle and father believe it to be the Lannisters, as they killed your Aunt Elia. Many in Dorne believe it to have been the workings of the Targaryens or perhaps a different house in Dorne. I can not say for certain who killed your mother and siblings, but I know someone did."

Amirina nodded and looked down at the jewelry once more. Perhaps it wouldn't be terribly awful to follow her culture for this one moment. Perhaps the sadness in Nalia's voice would disappear should she follow the rules of Dornish weddings. She was of the Old faith, but she could honor the dressings of the women, just not the ceremony.

"Nalia," Amirina started, clearing her throat, "would you mind doing my nose ring for me? I get a bit uneasy around the stick and blood."

The woman immediately peeled up and smiled widely. "Of course, Rina! I would be honored to. I am nearly finished with your hair, and then I will start with that."

Amirina smiled at the woman's excitement before turning back to the jewelry. Her eyes caught the sight of diamond jewels within the metal. She picked up the pair of earrings and held one up to her ear, finding that it appealed to her and would more than likely match her dress. The color was not visible in the diamonds and would probably do well in a Northern ceremony. It wasn't too much and it was just enough. There was a matching maang tikka sitting next to the pair. It was ornamental and had an oval-cut diamond surrounded by small opals. It was pinched at the top and billowed out at the bottom. The necklace that matched the set looked similar to the earrings and maang tikka as was expected. But Amirina had a different idea for her necklace.

She reached out for her small jewelry box that sat simply on her vanity. It was a gift from her uncle for her tenth nameday. Rina opened it lightly and reached into it, carefully drawing out the claw necklace Jon had gifted to her for her nameday. She would wear that for the wedding. There would be no question to it.

Placing the simple necklace next to the intricate ornaments, Amirina smiled sadly. There would no longer be a Jon Snow in her life, not after today. Perhaps occasional visits would occur. But Jon Snow would have to cease to exist in her mind…and in her heart.

"You seem sad, my dear," Nalia commented, her fingers finishing the final touches to the braid. "This is your wedding day. One should not be saddened on such an occasion."

Rina smoked lightly and still stared at the necklace. Perhaps it wasn't good for her to wear it.

"I am fine," she said distantly, her eyes fixated.

Nalia scoffed and tied the strands together finally, finished Amirina's intricate hair styling. "I know when a girl lies, Rina. I live in Dorne, do you not remember. Come now, tell me what it is."

Amirina sighed, "My heart yearns for one I shall never have. It is quite simple. I shall be married to a man I do not trust. I shall never be one with the man I want to be with and trust with the entirety of my being."

"Such is a woman's life, Rina, you mustn't let that worry you. If you trust not the man you are to marry, then allow no hesitation to be seen by him. Act as if you are fully invested within him. Any man, despite his deepest sins, shall fall for a woman completely devoted to him," Nalia said calmly, as if speaking of lying to a husband was no large matter. She did so as she was beginning to prep Amirina for her piercing.

"I suppose you are true," Amirina nodded quietly, watching with unease as the woman got the thin metal rod that pierced skin quite easily. She was starting to regret her caving on the subject.

Nalia laughed lightly, holding the rod up to the left nostril of Amirina's nose. "I always am, my dear."

And without warning, Nalia quickly jabbed and withdrew the rod into Amirina's nose. She gave a wide glance and gasp, as she was unprepared for the event.

"It always works. Never let them know you're going to pierce them. It'll hurt much less, dear," she chuckled lightly, pulling out a cloth and wiping the rod with it to ride of the smeared blood.

"Well," Amirina said, sucking in slightly due to the pain and holding her hands over her nose, "it damn well hurt."

"Ah, but less than it would have!" Nalia called cheekily. She went over to a bucket of leftover bath water, shrugged, and dipped the cloth inside of it. She then returned and dabbed Amirina's nose quickly with it. The blood was no profuse, but there was still a bit. But they had no time to care for blood.

Nalia tossed the cloth to the side somewhere and began working on Amirina's jewelry. She hooked the maang tikka into the girl's hair adeptly, obviously having done it before. It sat perfectly in the middle, dripping to around the center of her forehead. Then, she worked quickly to attach the small pearled chain from a simple golden nose ring to the pair of earrings she had chosen. Nalia first placed both of the earrings in, and then she worked to gently place the nose ring within Amirina's left nostril, the chain going across her left cheek and ending at the earring. Finally, came the necklace. Nalia stared at it for a brief moment. Despite her look of curiosity, Nalia stood silent and worked the necklace around Amirina's neck without ruining the braid.

Nalia smiled at the sight of Amirina and clasped her shoulders lightly. "I remember when you were but a girl. Look at you now, a woman grown," she reminisced quietly, almost whispering. "You are beauty and grace Amirina Martell. Represent your house well and wisely. Now let us dress you for your wedding."

* * *

It was dark.

It was snowing.

That was all Amirina could see. Her vision was tunneling and she wasn't quite sure what was happening. Lanterns were being carried by all of the guests. Men and women and a few children stood by one another and watched as she walked by, Ned Stark standing slightly in front of her and to her left. He carried his own lantern. His face was grim, older than he truly was. But it held hope. Hope in those dark eyes of his that seemed to rival the fir trees that scattered themselves across the Godswood.

The heart tree stood lonesome. The lake near it stayed silent. Two giants of men stood before it: one the father and one the son. One of which would speak. One of which would take Amirina as his wife.

The snow crunched beneath her feet as she walked slowly. Eyes were focused on her. Her breath came out in wisps as she tried her best to control it. Her heart beat quickly within her chest, trying and reaching to claw from her body. The wind caressed her skin gently but with an uncertainty that warped into her own mind.

She took in another breath, focusing on controlling her heart and breathing.

Amirina kept her head held high, a feeling of regret coursing through her blood and impregnating her soul. She did not want this. She never could. The man who would stand before her was not the man she wished for. That man was standing amongst the others, probably not caring to be there. She knew he had been avoiding her. She knew she must have said something while in her drugged stupor. She hated herself for it.

Hate for her own doings that she could not control was all she felt. She hated her stupidity and her ability to be so daft until now. She hated the fact that as she approached the front, just under the weirwood tree, she looked over to her family. Her eyes searched frantically for the boy she was growing so fond of, yet she felt so alone. She searched for her best friend, hoping, praying, he would step out and stop everything. Even if not as a boy who recuperated her feelings, then as one who cared for his cousin. But no one cared at the moment. No one but Amirina.

So, the Martell girl continued walking, her feet dragging her unwilling body to the heart tree. She had not felt truly poorly about the situation until when Nalia dressed her. She realized just what she was getting into. She remembered how the Smalljon had acted at their feast. She remembered how her Job made her smile so often. She remembered how rumors whispered into her ear about the horrors the Smalljon committed upon wildlings in the forests of the Last Hearth. She remembered the way he stared upon her the first night they danced. She remembered the way he grasped her hand and arm, his fingers digging into her skin. The man was a violent drunk, and Amirina feared for her life suddenly.

Especially when she made eye contact with the man who she would call husband.

"Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" the rumbling voice of the Greatjon rang out.

Amirina then realized…she was standing before them. She was coming before the Gods and she was being wed.

"Amirina, of the House Martell, comes to be wed," Ned started, his voice low and solemn. Amirina looked over at him for a moment, gauging his responses and actions. His lips were downturned and he seemed rather…displaced. "A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble, she comes to beg the blessings of the Gods."

Amirina smiled lightly at the man who she called uncle. He had good intentions. She knew it to be so. She just wished he had seen things he knew were there.

"Who comes to claim her?" he asked finally, having taken a moment to breathe the cold winter air deeply.

Closing her eyes, Amirina looked forward once more. The dark orbs focused on the snow below her and then on the giant of a man who would claim her. He would claim her body, but never her heart she assumed. She doubted anyone would unless the boy stepped from the quiet proceedings and voiced his nonexistent confessions.

The Smalljon cleared his throat and took only a step to stand beside his father. He forced eye contact with Amirina as he spoke. "Jon of House Umber, heir to the Last Hearth."

The large man kept his eyes locked on Amirina, not even blinking as he spoke to Ned. "Who gives her?"

"Eddard, of House Stark, who is her uncle, who was her mother's brother," he said quietly, his voice slightly clipping at the mention of his deceased sister. Amirina turned her eyes down momentarily, a pang tipping through her heart. She had pushed those dreams from her mind, yet they found a way to continuously claw for her attention. And once again, they were pulled forward.

Struggling to find breath once more, Amirina sucked the cool air in as much as possible. She clenched her jaw slightly and looked back up at the man who would be her husband. He seemed…pleased. Very pleased with what was about to happen. She couldn't blame him. She was the niece of the Dornish prince and the niece of the Lord of Winterfell. She had everything, or near to it. And this man was about to become very powerful with allies.

The old man's voice rang out once more. But this time, it was directed to Amirina.

"Amirina," he started, his voice rumbling through the night, "will ya take this man?"

The woman in question looked up at the aging man. His hair was growing as white as the snow beneath them. His face was growing with lines that mimicked the trees around them. The man would die in a few years, Amirina knew it. He was far too old and aging too quickly to live for much longer. He was kind. Or he had been to her. Amirina rather enjoyed the Greatjon's company. However, she was not wedding that man. The man she would wed stood to the old man's left, directly in front of her.

She sighed deeply and despite the cries of outrage in her heart, she declared, "I will take this man."

The Smalljon smirked lightly and extended out his hand. Amirina laid her own upon his and felt his grasp tighten slightly. She took a sharp breath in and allowed him to lead her to the bottom of the tree. There, the two engaged in a silent prayer, the company with them participating as well.

Amirina bent her head as she kneeled in the snow. Her eyes shut and her mouth opened slightly. She spoke within her mind. She prayed for health and happiness for her family. She prayed to bear sons for the Smalljon, hoping it would make life a bit easier for herself. She prayed to have a life that was decent and did not require too much pain to endure. She asked for forgiveness for the thoughts that plagued her of her cousin as she married the Umber heir. She prayed to never have to see the boy, she had grown fond of, sad. She wished him a long and happy life, painless and enjoyable. She wished for him to live life completely, find a woman and have children with her. She wished for his life to be far better than her own.

A hot and salty liquid fell down her cheek and Amirina immediately wiped it away. She did not realize her folly with thinking in such a way. She could not let anyone know she cried while during prayer. People would question her. So, she quickly and quietly wiped her eyes and cheeks, hoping all of the evidence of such was gone.

Amirina felt the man grasp her hand once more and lead her to the center, standing where they had said their vows. Silently, Amirina bent her head as the Smalljon removed her cloak of House Martell, the speared sun disappearing. And suddenly, a cloak of black with a red field and intersecting chains covered her body. The chains would wear her down.

* * *

Amirina sat in the chair she loved so deeply. A goblet of the vile drink of mead was her only company at the moment. Her husband would return. He stated he would. Yet she wished for him not to. She did not wish to be bedded by the large man. She wished to not be wedded to him. Yet, both were happening. She had spoken her vows in front of her family and the Old Gods. She had wed the Smalljon Umber and she would be bedded by him once he returned from gathering a few things from his chambers.

She gave a scoff and downed her second goblet of the honey flavored drink. She did not want to remember this night. So, she would drink until she could no longer see or feel. Already, she felt her fingers tingling slightly and she felt a few things difficult to focus on from far away. She smirked at the development and stood to go pour herself another glass.

Amirina walked over to the small table near her bed and set the goblet down, uncorking the bottle of mead once more. She poured the honey brown liquid into the cup, nearly spilling it. She set the bottle down and began to drink the burning beverage, assaulting her senses with the alcohol. Her body tingled and a shiver ran through her as she continued to drink. Her mind closed off at some points and she turned a blind eye to it. She wanted to feel nothing at the moment. She wanted to feel nothing when she was bedded.

Suddenly, the goblet was ripped from her grasp and Amirina reacted slowly. Slower than she normally would. She turned to face the culprit and her stomach dropped. The Smalljon stood over her, nearly throwing the goblet down upon the table.

"Why're ya drinkin'?" he asked, the smell of honey wafting from his breath. He had been drinking as well. Of course it took him ages to return, she thought.

"I've got ahhhh, a few nerves," she replied flippantly, reaching for her goblet once more. Fear was starting to drain away from her body, probably a terrible thing for her. Fear is what kept her smart with her words.

The Smalljon scoffed and pulled her arm towards him, pulling her whole body into his. He lowered his head and voice, "Why the nerves?"

Amirina chuckled and pulled away from him once more. "I have yet to kiss a man, nevertheless have one fuck me," she confessed, not caring about her vulgar speech. Theon would perhaps be proud in this moment.

Contrary to her belief, her drunken state amused the giant man.

"Ya do not want fer that?" the man carefully prodded, quickly pouring another goblet, unseen by Amirina.

She made a hand motion and sat upon the furs of her bed. "I'd much rather…sleep. Yes, I'd rather sleep and not preform this rather foolish ceremony. We have made our vows…why must we bed toooooo…" she trailed off, her words beginning to slur.

"To confirm the weddin'?" the Smalljon offered, holding out another glass of mead to Amirina.

She looked at it skeptically but shrugged her shoulders. He was only allowing for her to feel nothing and she would take that chance.

She then nodded her head as she took the goblet. "Yes, that's-that's the word I wished to use. We are wedded, are we not? Let us…let us sleep instead of fucking. I much rather preform the latter," she confessed, drinking the liquid truth from the goblet as quickly as she could. Her control was deteriorating. Her words were slurring slightly. But she was not completely drunk. She was still aware of many matters.

One of those matters was how close the Smalljon was getting.

"Per'aps, ya should take off that jewelry. It will make sleepin' far more comfortable," he suggested, an undertone in his voice that Amirina could not pick out.

She nodded and stood from the bed, wobbling slightly in her step. The Smalljon quickly grabbed her waist and led her to her vanity, holding on tightly. She could still feel the way his fingers dug into her flesh through the fabric of her dress. She ignored it however, thinking he would back off in a moment. But he did not. He stood behind her, pressed up against her body as she shakily removed the beautiful jewelry from her body.

The earrings came first, slowly but surely coming out of her ears. She set them down and took in a deep breath. She then unhooked the maang tikka from her hair, setting that down next to the earrings. Carefully, she unhooked the nose ring, having taken the chain from her face as well. Slowly, she unwise the braid that Nalia had done for her, as she was tired of her hair pulling at her scalp in such a manner. She ran her fingers through her hair quickly, untangling it as best as she could. She went to unhook her necklace but stopped. She stared at the gift around her neck for a moment longer. She couldn't unhook it. She simply couldn't. It was her only haven at the moment. And it would perhaps be her only haven for a while.

So, she pulled her hands down and smiled sadly at the wood below her. She felt the tingling of the alcohol. She felt the pressure from her husband's hands. She felt the weight of the necklace around her neck. And she wasn't quite sure what to do. But, the Smalljon would decide for her.

He pulled her from the desk and spun her around to face him. He smirked down upon her and lifted a hand to move the dark waves from her face. "Yer a beautiful woman, Rina," he said, causing Amirina to flinch slightly. Her name did not roll off of his tongue well. "Not many men claim a Dornish wife."

Amirina chuckled nervously, fear beginning to emerge once more, as if it were burning the alcohol away. "Yes, well, I am also from the Stark house, so…"

The Smalljon chuckled underneath his beard and pulled Amirina into him once more. "That makes it even better, little snake. I'll fuck a wolf and a snake every night fer the rest o' ma life."

The man then gave her no time to react, as he pulled her up enough to violently press his lips against her own. And Amirina had no idea on how to react or what to do. She had never kissed a man before. She was never allowed to. But now, she was in a situation with a man who probably knew all too well on how to kiss a woman.

"Yer ma wife, Amirina. As ma wife, ya will learn 'ow to please yer 'usband," he said against her lips, a fearful shiver running down her back.

Without another word, the Smalljon spun her around and began attacking her dress. And as he did so, Amirina stood there, unmoving. She felt her whole mind collapse within itself. Each touch upon her skin, each breath against her flesh. She knew not what to do. So she closed her eyes and allowed her husband to do as he pleased.

* * *

Jon leaned against the wooden table, his head pounding from the liquid he rarely touched. It was a strong mead that was rarely drunk by anyone, so Jon was able to get his hands upon it without much hassle. He claimed it was for Robb, knowing the Stark heir would perhaps drink with him.

But Jon still sat alone, alone for what seemed like forever. He drank silently and in pain, trying to tell himself it was the pain of losing his cousin and his best friend. But that damned nagging. It returned. It returned and burnt his mind and heart. An ache and throb paralyzed him and he found no will to push himself from the table and stop drinking. So, he kept drinking.

He drank to numb the pain he felt. The pain that scorched him as he had watched Amirina speak her vows in front of the heart tree beneath the star-ridden night sky. The pain that tortured him for weeks as he avoided the poor girl who only wished to see him. The poor girl he left in a bed, sick and healing from a wound simply because she said a few words he could have misheard. And he left her. He left her alone. And now, he was alone.

Jon shook his head and took another drink from the mug, not caring about the burn that invaded his throat and senses. It still hurt less than the pain that plagued him now.

"Did ya even want to say goodbye?" a voice challenged, sounding familiar to Jon. "Did ya even care that she was leavin'?"

Jon took in a deep breath, guilt scratching at him. "No," he muttered, lowering his head upon the cool wood.

"What?" Robb seemed to shout, trying to get a louder confession from his half-brother.

"I said, no!" Jon shouted back, his voice cracking slightly at the end.

He had turned his head to his right, looking over his shoulder to see his half-brother storming towards him. The auburn-haired boy stopped in his place, his face scrunched in confusion and anger.

"Why? Why, Jon? Rina is our cousin. Does that not matter to ya?" Robb questioned, his own voice broken from hurt. Jon knew the Stark was hurt from seeing their cousin leave. He was too.

"I couldn't," Jon said quietly, hiding his face behind his growing locks of dark hair.

Robb walked over quickly and shoved his hand upon Jon's shoulder, spinning him roughly so he could face him. "Why couldn't ya? That's our cousin! I watched 'er cry as I said ya weren't comin'! I watched the life leave 'er eyes fer a brief moment, Jon," Robb pleaded, vulnerable and unamused.

Jon shook his shoulder from Robb's grasp and took a shaky breath. "I couldn't," he said, his voice stronger this time.

Robb scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Of course ya fuckin' couldn't, Jon. Ya never could see 'er fore the weddin', and ya couldn't see 'er fore she left," he hissed, hurt from his brother's actions.

"I couldn't," Jon said with confidence this time, albeit shakily. He would not move from his stance.

Robb huffed and turned away, anger rolling off of him in waves. "Ya hurt 'er, Jon. Sleep well with that."

And with that, Jon was alone once more.

He turned back towards his mug and simply stared at it. He couldn't say why he could not go out to see her. He couldn't say that that nagging at the back of his mind had crawled to his heart. He couldn't say that if he saw her, he would hug her and hold her against him, not allowing the Umber heir to steal her away. Because Jon liked Amirina Martell. Even if he wasn't quite sure of it yet, he knew that something akin to it was in his heart and mind.

But he couldn't accept the fact that his heart beat slightly faster when he saw her. He couldn't accept the fact that his heart dropped when he saw her being led away by the Smalljon. He couldn't accept the fact that she was gone and would no longer be his. No longer there for him. No longer his friend.

Jon took another gulp of the spiced mead and didn't flinch, as the pain in his body was greater than the pain of the spice.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Y** ay! Alrighty! Chapter done! Finally, am I right? And a confession from Jon, kinda haha. Don't worry. Amirina will return. We're going to jump around a lot more, and then…canon! Thank you all for the support! I love y'all!_

 _Love_

 _P_

 _ **maartenvervloet** \- Thank you for your input! I appreciated it and used it. I'll be saving such a scene until it's one I WANT to write. So thank you! :)_

 _ **HPuni101** \- You're back! I do miss your reviews but I'm glad to hear you have enjoyed these past few chapters. I'm worried about the Smalljon as well, haha. Thank you dear and I hope you enjoy this one!_

 _ **Arianna** \- Ahhh, yes, I'm sorry dear. Don't worry, I do have compassion for Rina. But, this is the Game of Thrones and we know how living in that happens. There will be difficulties that everyone hates but are necessary for our lovely Amirina. Don't fret, she will prevail! Thank you love!_

 _ **Guest** \- Here's the update! Hope ya like it!_

 **Guest** \- H _aha, here ya go! Hope ya like it!_


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N:** Lots of reviews I responded to at bottom! Thank you all for them! Hard chapter for me to write. A lot of stuff happened outside of writing and I needed a break. I am sorry for such the long break and promise to start getting chapters out more quickly. I hope you all can understand the jumps I placed in here. Explanations for emotions will be revealed in due time. I love you all!_

 _ **Disclaimer: Ya know the usual speal.**_

* * *

Amirina was drained: emotionally, physically, and everything in between. The journey to the Last Hearth was far shorter than the majority of her travels, however, the experience was quite different. Every stop for Amirina was brutal. The wind grew harsher and snow fell harder. The cold was unforgiving and the Martell girl could see her breath daily. And every break…the Smalljon had her. He had her as as many times as his body would allow, not once caring for her own. He only cared for it when it was bare in front of his eyes.

It had been happening for the past fortnight. The day they left for the Last Hearth to the day they arrived. They had had solid riding and little to no issues whilst on the roads. However, Amirina was certain they took perhaps a few days too long to arrive, leading her to believe her husband caused such a thing so more…breaks would occur.

Amirina rubbed her eyes, a fog clouding her vision. She gave a yawn and stretched her back slightly. Finally, she would be able to have a proper night's rest. No cold wind blowing in her face. No Smalljon for the night, as he was holding a meeting with his father and their men. As they had arrived, apparently there had been a wildling attack due north of the keep. Since then, Amirina had been alone with the Smalljon's sisters and her new handmaiden, Greta. And finally, well into the night, Amirina was alone.

Giving a sigh, Amirina went and laid upon her new bed. It was a bed she would share with her husband, but for this night, it was her own. And she would cherish it greatly, as she feared the nights when it would not just be her lone body lying there.

Amirina sat up, her hand going to her neck, grasping at the gift Jon Snow had given her so long ago. Or, it felt like it had been so long ago. It had been weeks. Weeks since she had a decent conversation with him. Weeks since she truly saw him last. By old and new, she missed him.

Standing from the furs, Amirina walked over to a desk underneath a window. Her fingers grazed the spruce wood that made up the furniture. Outside of the window sat fields of snow and a line of fir trees that stood ominously. She placed her hand on the frosted glass and scoffed. The view was far better in Winterfell from her chambers.

Amirina sat down in the chair opposite the desk and rolled out a piece of parchment. She quickly opened some ink and dipped an unused quill inside of it. Without much thought, she began writing.

 _To my family,_

 _I have arrived in the Last Hearth safely. I believe it to be of good tidings to inform you all of my travels and that I was taken care of whilst on the road. It was quite long, but I fared well, seeing as my travels to Winterfell with my father took quite some time._

 _I eagerly await a response from you all. I wish to hear how each and every one of you are doing. I am not quite sure as to when I will be able to visit once more, but I do hope it is quite soon._

 _I love you all._

 _Amirina_

She signed the paper at the bottom of her short, yet sweet letter. Tilting her head slightly, she examined each word carefully. All she wanted was a confirmation on how Jon was doing. But, she simply could not write to just him. She doubted greatly that he would see the letter and she doubted the Smalljon would allow her a letter to be sent to her cousin. It was also a matter of knowing how each of her cousins were faring and how her aunt and uncle were as well. But she did rather miss her cousin Jon the most.

Folding the parchment, Amirina decided it was time for her to go to sleep. The moon was high in the sky and the sun would soon follow. She smiled lightly and set it upon the desk. She would write her father in the morn…maybe. Anger still boiled within her, but it was far less than she felt towards her Uncle Doran. So perhaps she would write to them in the morn. But at the moment, she needed rest.

* * *

The Smalljon leaned back in his chair, clenching and unclenching his fists. He knew his knuckles were white. But he also knew how infuriated he was. He had yet to have anything to eat and drink and a rage was pounding within his mind. Instead of being able to do anything he wished, he was stuck dealing with a wildling attack and one of their uncultured men having been taken. They needed to know the moves and coordination of the wild people north of the Wall. Some of them often were able to get over the less protected areas of the Wall and track down to the Last Hearth. Most of the time, Umber scouts were able to track them and end the futile attacks. This time, however, they were caught unprepared. And the Smalljon was just about to rip the man's throat out.

"In exchange fer yer life, ya will tell us everythin' ya know bout the attacks," his father began to bargain. The Smalljon rolled his eyes and wanted to slap his father. He sounded like an inexperienced lord with how he spoke.

This was no time for bargaining. This was time for sending a message.

"Like ah'd tell ye," the restrained and dirty wild man spat out, spitting upon the ground in front of the long table they sat at.

Standing up, the Smalljon placed a hand on the pommel of his broadsword, ready to kill the man for the disrespect. But his father held out a hand, giving out a laugh. Jon looked over and wanted to fume. He felt a vein start to throb upon his forehead and within his neck. He ground his teeth together and growled under his breath. Kill the man now, string him from his feet in the forests, and send a message to the future wildlings who hoped to do the same as he had. That was what Jon Umber wanted. But his father always thought otherwise.

"And why is tha'? Hmm?" the older man chuckled, knowing he was in the position of power and could toy with the man. But the Smalljon was blind to that.

The rat of a man scoffed and struggled against the Umber men who held him down. "Cause why would ah tell ye o' ma kin? Why would ah betray 'em?"

The older man shrugged, causing the Smalljon to shift in his seat with impatience. He had a wife to get to. He had food to eat. And he had mead to drink. He had better things to do. He thought it was a simple answer to all of this. Kill the man and be done with it.

"Per'aps ya will because yer life depends on it?" The Greatjon laughed, as if it were a small matter to him.

The wildling gave a sarcastic laugh, a wild look entering his oak eyes, ones of malice. "'Ow bout ah talk bout tha' beau'y ah saw earlier?" he asked, turning his head to look exactly at the Smalljon. And Jon hated it. Rage began to build within him. Rina was his. His wife. His _property_.

"She's a beaut," the man chuckled, licking his lips as he spoke. "Ah could fuck 'er. Ah could fuck 'er till she fergot who ye were. Our 'ole group saw 'er. Ye fergot a few o' us. We all want 'er."

That was enough.

The Smalljon pushed from the table and immediately stood from his seat. He grasped the hilt of his sword and pulled it out quickly, ready to cut the man's limbs off slowly and then finally cut his throat open. Yes, that sounded just about right to the Umber heir. He would start with the fingers and toes. Then the forearms and calves. And then the biceps and thighs. Perhaps he would burn the wounds with old coals, simply to ensure he would stay alive through the whole process. Or perhaps he would have him drawn and quartered. That was outlawed in Westeros, but Jon was damned sure he could get away with it. No one cared for the Last Hearth, so long as they kept the bloody wildlings from heading south.

The man was about to jump over the table and begin his biddings, but a strong grip held onto his arm. He ripped his limb from the grasp and turned to yell at whoever dared stop him. It was the strong-willed beauty he called sister, her name was Letta. Most just called her Letty or Let. She had a stubborn fire akin to his own and he could acknowledg her as his equal. She was nowhere near the same height, but she was a large woman. A large and strong one who could easily break a man's hand with one movement. She had taken over the household after their mother passed, having been the oldest child and daughter of them all. She had strong features that most women lacked: hard stormy eyes, long oak hair pulled from her face, a strong jaw, and a straight nose that could cut ice. Jon often jested that she was actually a Mormont bear, but she rarely found anything amusing. She was as stoic as the winter's cold.

"We don't _amuse_ wildlings," she said dangerously low, her voice a whisper in the now silent chamber. When she was a child, she was quite studious and rarely ever left the septa at the time. She nearly perfected her speech, yet her reading was quite lacking. She struggled with words on paper. But her voice compensated for it. It was one of ice and hard steel, cutting all that heard it. It was always calm as well, never betraying anything.

"The rat is simply wishing for a rise out of you, Jon. Do not amuse it by reacting. Amuse it by proving it wrong."

The Smalljon calmed immediately, knowing the effects of his sister's commands. They were never up for discussion, one simply listened to her- unless it was their father, who more oft than not, disagreed with her despite the facts.

He nodded his head, "Of course, sister." He cleared his throat and adjusted his collar. Jon nodded his head towards Letta. "Thank ya."

The woman nodded back and turned her attention back to the wildling man. "You believe us to not know of your people's whereabouts. Your faith would be sorely misplaced in such a statement. Our men have already taken up most of your scum. You shall be hung on the morrow. I do hope you sleep well, _rat_. However, I doubt your rest will be restless by morrow's eve."

The Smalljon couldn't help but sneer at his father's lack of response. Letta was a strong and respectful woman. And the Smalljon respected her beyond measure. But her similar looks to their mother proved a hinderance to him. Their father favored her. Not because of her smarts…no, he favored her because of her looks and strength. A strength Jon himself had. But it went unnoticed in his sister's looming shadow.

And even if it was his sister, he was never behind a woman.

* * *

Amirina walked alongside Elena, her hands clasped in front of her. She did it not in complacency but in preserving heat. The day was chilled and Amirina had no form of mits nor gloves. Apparently no one of House Umber felt the cold wind and air. At least in Winterfell, it had been pleasant most of the time.

"What's it like in Dorne?" the voice of the young girl rang clear. She had asked around thirty questions each time they took their daily walk. It was a walk that Amirina was forced to take, as the Smalljon had "requested" she connect with his youngest sister. This set up a stroll with the girl everyday, normally throughout the grounds of the keep. The girl took it upon herself to show Amirina every nook and cranny and to ask about every question she possibly could.

Amirina took a deep breath through her nose, tired of her walk and tired of the cold. She wished for her bed and for a fireplace with a book in her hands. She was growing tired of the North, she found. "It is far more pleasant than _here_ ," she said, not really caring about her tone of voice nor her inconsiderate words.

The girl at her side gasped and stepped in front of Amirina, pulling at her skirts. "This is ma home!"

Amirina Martell stopped walking and looked down at the girl in front of her. Elena Umber was no more than seven name days old. Her voice was choppy and her words strange. Amirina found it annoying at the moment, but the girl was a child, and children luckily knew no better.

"And _Dorne_ is mine," Amirina shot back, hurt creeping into her heart. It had been the longest time she had been away from home. And gods…she began to feel it in her bones.

The girl quieted and seemed to ponder this statement for a moment. It took everything in Amirina to not steal her skirts away from the girl. Rickon would often tug at her skirts if her wanted something. This girl was not Rickon. She was an Umber, not a wolf pup. This jarred her heart as well.

"This is yer home!" Elena proudly stated, a toothy grin showing upon her young features. She had chocolate eyes with fair skin and dark hair to match. She was an Umber alright, and it made Amirina's stomach coil slightly. "Ma brother says this is yer home! Yer ma sister!"

She seemed ecstatic about the revelation, as she began to giggle excitedly. "Do ya know how many sisters I have? I have five!"

The girl then began to sit upon the ground, not caring about the dirt getting into her skirts. It reminded Amirina of Arya. She gave a pained smile as the child launched into story about each and every one of her sisters. It made Amirina wish for her cousins, as they were the only true siblings she had. Her half-sisters, or her father's bastards, never talked to her. They kept to themselves and avoided her, not doubt listening to Ellaria Sand, their whore-mother. The thought of the woman forced a shiver of anger to rake through Amirina. She hated the woman. She turned her father back to his whoring ways. She encouraged it. And Amirina hated her for it.

"Are ya listenin' to me?" the little girl asked, pulling Amirina's skirts once more.

She snapped from her daze and gave a false smile, simply to encourage the girl to hopefully finish her story quicker. "Of course, little one."

The words weren't true as they fell from her lips.

The girl smiled and clapped her hands, exaggerating movements with each word of her little stories. Amirina simply sat and listened, eventually absorbing the information the girl spewed at her. She didn't want to like the child, but she knew she would. She loved children, she truly did. It was just difficult for her to look upon Elena and not see the face of the man who took her to bed every night. It had been every night for a fortnight. And every morn, Amirina woke up and bathed without a thought upon her mind. She simply cleaned herself.

"None of 'em like me," the girl suddenly said, catching Rina's attention.

She cocked her head and inquired, "Now why is that, little one?"

"Ma mother became sleepy after she bore me," the girl said, obviously having heard conversations being repeated between adults, as no child should know of such a thing nor speak in such a manner.

Her chocolate eyes seemed to fill to the blacks with a wave of unknown sorrow, having never known the woman she wished to call mother. And Amirina could understand that sadness. She truly could. "My mother was the same after she bore me, Elena. Do not fret."

The girl could only look down and nod, her small fingers picking at the threads of Rina's deep blue skirts. She hated the resemblance between Elena and Jon, but she could not base a child upon her sibling's sins. Allowing the want to help the girl push forward, Amirina pulled the girl's hands up and grasped them tightly.

"Do not let your sisters or your brother ever make you feel responsible for your mother's sleep. It shall never be your fault. The gods are the ones who decide whether we shall sleep or not. It shall never be your fault."

The little girl smiled softly and nodded her head. Amirina couldn't help but feel satisfied with the child's contentment. She was also content with her ability to make the child happier. It seemed to be something she was growing quite adept at.

"Now," Amirina said, rising from the ground and pulling the child up to her feet as well, "I have yet to see the stables. You must certainly show me them, Elena. I rather love horses."

The girl gave a near-squeal of excitement as Amirina finally seemed interested in the walks. The child took a hand away and began pulling Amirina with her small body. She was young and quite foolish, but all girls were as such. If they weren't, then trouble would arise. Arya Stark was no such girl. She acted like a child, yes. But she was no fool. Amirina knew her little cousin would grow to be no fool. She would grow to make mistakes, yes. All girls would. But she would be brilliant. Elena, on the other hand, she would grow to be a fool. But Amirina could not fault her. She was a child blamed for her mother's death.

Amirina could simply not help but feel guilt welling up within her when she thought of how she treated her. She was Elena Umber, not the Smalljon. She was a child in need of a sister. And a sister she would be.

* * *

"Ma lady?" the quiet voice of Yvonne peeped around the wooden door to Amirina's room.

"Yes, Yvonne?" the Martell girl coughed out slightly. "You may enter, my dear."

Yvonne was a young girl in training to become a handmaiden. She was only reaching her ten and fourth nameday, and she was quite lovely. The Smalljon had argued with Amirina for a full day, saying she was too young to be trusted, but Amirina liked her far better than Greta, as the older woman was rough and rarely spoke. He had grown far too…territorial since they arrived in the Last Hearth. He had never left their bed. And he made sure she remembered that.

The young girl entered into the room, a crying Elena Umber holding onto her. "I'm sorry, ma lady. I'm not quite sure what to do with 'er."

Amirina coughed into the crook of her elbow for a moment, taking a second to clear the itch within her throat. She had fallen ill the past few days and had been lying in her bed, unable to go walking with Elena. She wasn't incredibly ill, as it came and went, but resting was for "the best" and she didn't mind the lounging for a little while. Perhaps that was why she was crying.

"Do not worry," Rina stated, pushing herself into sitting position under the furs of the bed. "I shall care for her."

Yvonne nodded her head and awkwardly shooed the young child in, trying her best to be gentle. The girl ran to Amirina's bed, her nose red and face filled like a pillow. Amirina took a single inspection of her and nodded towards Yvonne, indicating for her departure. The young maid hurriedly escaped the unknown situation.

Elena Umber sniffled loudly within the room, contending with the cracking like a whip of thee fire that sat in front of her bed. Amirina held her arms out, knowing how children loved a hug. Most of the time it could be quick and fleeting, like the kiss of a mother one never knew. However, Amirina knew that most children craved the warmth of a long embrace, one that surpassed time more oft than not. It was soft and precious, a rarity among people. Amirina would not deprive Elena of such an experience, no matter her health.

"Come, dear," the Martell lowered her voice, sweet enough to entice a response. "What has bothered you so greatly?"

Elena hugged Amirina tightly, her ruddy face buried into the thin night dress the Martell wore. Its fabric was so thin that one could make out the outline of Amirina's nipples. It was also thin enough for Amirina to feel the warm and salty liquid seeking through to her skin. She tried not to mind the chill that ran through her body with the contrast of cool air and warm droplets, but she failed to truly conceal it, as chicken flesh appeared on her arms.

"Tell me child. I have little time, as I do not wish for you to pass ill from time with me," Amirina gently reprimanded, her voice holding an edge of steel. Her sickness was probably merely a common chill, as most called it. So, despite it usually leaving the body with rest, Amirina didn't wish for Elena to get it. Children had a more difficult time of doing that apparently. Or it was something akin to that that Luwin has told her.

"Ma brother isn't happy," the small girl said slowly, as if scared to reveal the reasons for her sadness. "He said some thin's that weren't very nice."

"To you, my dear?"

Elena shook her head and curled more into Amirina's embrace, like a baby would with a mother. "They were 'bout ya."

Amirina slightly stiffened, her spine forming ice within it. She shouldn't have felt surprise, perhaps relief. Perhaps if he did not like her as he claimed to each night, then perhaps she could leave. Perhaps she could go back to Winterfell. Or most importantly, she could go back to Dorne to see her father once more.

"What exactly did he say, Elena?" she questioned, curious as to what he was unhappy about. She allowed him to fuck her nearly every night. She allowed him to do as he pleased with her. She was a dutiful wife. She felt the small form of attraction that she had grown towards him before their wedding to be nothing within her heart any longer. But she acted like the wife he wanted: submissive and attending to his every need so far, despite the anger within her veins. So she quietly wondered what it was he was unhappy with.

Elena gave a sigh and pulled Amirina's hand to hold it. "Ma brother spoke like a wildlin'. He got mad over ya not havin' a baby. He called ya…" she thought for a moment, " _barren_? He said ya should be with a babe yet."

The ice cracked.

Amirina felt nothing but sheer anger. An anger so violent that a tempest could never compare. It crawled through her veins like wildfire. It singed her heart like a spoke to a flame. Her spine was still frozen. Yet it was no longer of shock. No, that was a cold ice. This…within her body at the moment, was a burning hot ice that kept her posture straight.

Squeezing Elena's tiny hand lightly, Amirina smiled down at the girl. "Thank you for letting me know, my dear. I shall talk to your brother about his words and see what he meant by them."

In reality, what she said was, " _Don't worry child. He shall be strung up by the jewels he thinks so highly of and I shall let the wolves of the Northern forests to eat the appendage he believes to be so efficient._ "

But those were words a child should not hear. So she spoke them within her fuming mind, like smoke from a fire.

"Shall I go get ma brother?" Elena offered, smiling and thinking the two would work it out.

Amirina nodded her head, "That would be most helpful, dear Elena. It would be most helpful."

And so Amirina watched as the child sprang from her arms with a newfound bounce to her step. It was as if the child wished for her brother and his wife to reconcile quickly and that the tears were merely a plot to extend such a want. Amirina had to commend the girl if such a thing was true. Not many children were as talented as Elena was if those were truly her intentions. Even Arya had never accomplished such a feat.

Deciding to not portray weakness through her time of poor feelings, Amirina stood from her furs and slowly walked over to the dresser which held her dresses and robes. She would much rather wear a pair of trousers and a loose white tunic, however, dresses of northern style were beginning to grow upon her. So, now, she held an array of dresses ranging in color from red to black, each dark in hue but beautiful in intricacy. She had to admit the talent of the seamstress who wove them.

Amirina reached and grabbed a robe of great length, one that nearly pooled around her bare and slightly chilled feet. It was thicker than most robes, as Amirina chose it for a reason. The chill to the air was uncomfortable and the soles of her feet wished to jump away from the cold surface of the stone floors. There was a fur rug that stood in front of the crackling fire, yet Amirina knew she would grow to be far too warm if she stood there. She would be fine once she had far more anger in her system to boil the blood within her veins.

For the anger was dissipating slowly, but it was enough to distract her from the chill that plagued her the past daysz It was still there but with the lack of anyone to instigate, Amirina found it tiring to stay angry. The Smalljon was a northern man needing an heir. She could slightly find justification in his words. However, despite his need for a son, Amirina found his words to be more effective than she thought they could be. She never truly understood what it meant to be called barren until now. And she had to admit…it stung like a rose's thorn piercing her heart for a moment. But it felt as thought it were for a moment too long.

She wondered quietly, the cracking of fire in the background unheard to her, why she let it affect her as such. Rina wondered why she also seemed to care as much. Yes, she was a wife, she had a duty. But, she never remembered ever truly wanting children. Or perhaps, she had never truly thought about it. Children had always been around her. She would always play with them or read to them and maybe comfort them. She was simply good with children. She attributed that fact to her growing near people much younger than her at times. Visiting her Stark cousins obviously helped a lot with that.

So why did her heart ache dully at the thought of her husband's words?

"Ya 'ave me little sister summon me?" the slightly slurred words of the Smalljon suddenly echoed over the fire.

Amirina wished to roll her eyes but she knew now how to handle her husband when drunk from mead and ale and all sorts of concoctions.

"Well, when you decide to be aware of who listens, I will send for you personally," she shot back, her voice dripping with slight venom. This tone of voice was becoming regular for her. Not too hostile but not too passive, despite her dutiful submission as a wife. He was usually too drunk to hear the often accidental poison in her voice.

He gave a 'hmph' and walked in fully, closing their door behind him. His hands didn't even have to fully grasp the handle and he could still close it with a vengeance. The man was too large for this room and Amirina shuddered slightly at the thought. He was far too large at times.

"What is it ya want, wife?" he asked, his large arms crossed over his hulking chest. His furs made him seem even more massive than he truly was, and despite knowing his true size, Rina still found herself slightly unnerved by him.

She turned to face him fully and crossed her arms across her stomach, annoyance seeping through her body. "What makes you think that you have the right to speak of the matter of my lack of child?"

The Smalljon gave a scoff and walked further into the room, his form growing larger as he approached Amirina.

The Martell woman stood her ground, her jaw clenched with annoyance and an ever-increasing anger. One that had been slowly simmering under her skin and within her blood for the past moon of her stay in the Last Hearth. She wanted to finally let it unleash, now that she felt the true pain of the anger scorching her.

"Well what do you have to say to that, _Jon_?" she hissed, purposely ignoring his title and casually naming him.

The man walked up to her and placed a hand on the small of her back, pulling her into his body. She flinched slightly. It was not out of fear, however. It was out of anger at his touch and out of surprise that he had made the move, knowing she felt a burning towards the situation.

"Come now, wife," he said, his words purposefully sweet and smooth. "Per'aps ya may be a bit…"

" _Dramatic_?" Amirina supplied, her teeth grinding together. She was close to losing her calm.

The man smirked and nodded, a look of approval upon his rugged features. "Aye, that would be it."

Nearly grinding her teeth to dull pulps of what they once were, Amirina sneered lightly, "I would change your views on my reaction quite quickly, _husband_."

The Smalljon just laughed and suddenly dug his fingers into her robe, seemingly tearing through the fabric and piercing her flesh. "What shall ya do, little viper? Bite me? Poison me? Ya can't do anythin' this far north," he almost taunted, pulling her flush against him.

She wanted to thrust her hand through his leathers and feel the pulse of his heart as she ripped it out of his chest. Never had she wanted to kill a man. Perhaps…now she did. She hated Jon Umber. She hated him with a passion so great and so fierce, she would worry for his well-being if she were close to him. She knew she couldn't do anything yet. She couldn't convince him to find a maester to annul the pairing. She couldn't convince him to even leave her on the side of a road and let her rot or die by the hand of bandits and wildlings. No. She was far too precious. She was someone that all men except for him would never acquire.

"Would ya like to prove me wrong, little viper?" he hissed, his words tainted with the venom of challenge. She knew she was under his skin with her recent love of standing against him in everything. She could play the good wife in public but the wretched shrew in their bed chambers. She did, however, knew when it was best to do so, like now, when he wasn't totally heavy with drink, but he wasn't completely dry.

She looked up into his dark, drunken eyes and held a stare with the Umber son. He hated this as well. He hated the challenge.

"Take me to the maester and we shall see if I am truly as useless and barren as you see me to be," she stated, her voice unwavering and calm. Inside, she felt a quivering within her heart. It felt as though a bard was plucking the strings to a harp out of tune and it rattled Amirina to the bone. She prayed to old and new she wasn't with his child. Gods, she didn't want his spawn inside of her. But if she were to be without one…then she must be barren as he so confidently stated to gods know who. That was her greatest and quietest fear.

A barren woman had no place in this world.

And gods she did not want his children. But she did not want to live without children. Children could be the only good thing to happen within her time in the Last Hearth. She hoped to be so completely wrong on that fact so early on, she allowed an ignorance and shroud to cover her eyes. She wanted to protect her heart so incredibly that she wasn't sure what her true feelings were anymore.

She found foods bland. She found the snow to be wretched. She could feel the cold burn through her flesh and then instantly numb her limbs. She put on a show for herself and for Elena, and often times for Yvonne. She was a viper stuck in the snow, drowning within the frozen water. She was like every other disillusioned southern child when in the north. She was entranced completely and totally under the submission of the appeal of the white powder that fell often. She never lived in it. She never had to deal with the suffocating properties of it. Now…now she was stuck. She was caught playing in the snow too long. A cold was upon her and she was slowly being burnt by it.

Amirina had known this since she left Winterfell with Jon. She knew it, but she chose to ignore it. She wanted things to grow towards the sun just as flowers do. However, she failed to see the snow which was Jon Umber. She failed to allow herself the sight of reality. She wanted so badly to stay north near her cousins. She wanted the chance to see Jon Snow again. To see Arya. To see Sansa. Robb. Rickon. Bran. Uncle Ned and Aunt Catelyn. She wanted for all of them. Yet, she allowed herself to be suffocated in the process.

She didn't realize that all until the suffocating grip of Jon Umber tightened around her body in that moment. Then, she realized her faults until that point.

"Let us go, viper. We shall see if there sits a child within your womb. If there is not one to be found, we shall know your sand pit is barren," the disgusting words of the Smalljon rang out.

Amirina was brought back to the harsh reality of the moment. She realized how incredibly daft she had been. She realized that she had no power in the Last Hearth. She realized she was the viper drowning and suffocating in the white powder that was her husband. And she wasn't sure what she was to do to escape the ice-cold grave that had become her life.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Whoo! Long chapter. Got a bit rough towards the end. I hope her mood changes aren't awful. A lot more stuff will be revealed as we progress. But I hope I explained and introduced relationships well. I often struggle at times with jumping because I feel like emotions aren't developed correctly. So next few chapters will focus on emotion, not conversation. I'd much rather finish developing her emotional arc than develop the pre-canon plot arc as much. But, almost done with pre-canon! Then, you guys will get to see a lot of changes to our beloved Game of Thrones, but a lot of things will stay the same. Can't expect an OC like Rina to enter in and have her not change anything. Thanks for all the support! Can't believe we surpassed 200 follows! Thank you all so much! I love you all! Tell me what ya think! Helps me get ideas and chapters out quicker._

 _Love,_

 _P_

 _ **Guest** \- Here's your update! Hope ya enjoy it!_

 _ **HPuni101** \- Ah, I love reading your reviews! It's nice to see an ever consistent supporter! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint! Love you!_

 _ **HouseWinter** \- Of course! He is still much younger than he starts out in the show (2 years almost). He still has growing to do and without Rina there, I'm quite sure he shall grow to be the badass we all know and love in Season 1. Thank you for the review!_

 _ **Guest** \- Oh my! You are far too kind! I'm so glad you find this refreshing and I hope I don't disappoint! It's definitely hard not to follow the series but I will do my best to stay a bit further away so I can develop Amirina's story first and then have canon included. Thank you so much!_

 _ **Dark** \- Sorry, abbreviated your name love. Thank you so much for your review! Ramsay shall be quite interesting to say the least. And who knows? Maybe she will be, maybe she won't!_

 _ **CWG967** \- Glad to hear it love! Hope you enjoyed it!_

 _ **Anna B-** Goodness, I loved your review! Really well thought out and good questions posed! I'm glad you find this story interesting! There are certainly a lot of question marks that will be answered with time, like the whereabouts of Amirina when her family was killed or the mark on her shoulder. Hopefully, you are patient enough for that! And yes, Amirina will grow, as you see now, to not tolerate her husband's acts. Hopefully, it will work. Thank you!_

 _ **Innieminnie** \- Some of the best reviews yet! I laughed at a few and really related to others. I'm a sucker for romance but at times, i like my characters to stay independent. I don't even fully support the relationships I write at times. I love Motherly!Rina most, as I hope you do as well. I really connect with her there and find it easier to write her as such. The hardest part is writing them all so much younger mentally and physically than what I had planned at first, so there's gonna be a ton of ups and downs for now, but hopefully you will be patient with the characters and writing that you'll stay for the ride! Independent!Rina is planned out to be my favorite arc of the story! Thank you so much for the reviews love!_


	16. Chapter 16

_**A/N:** Long chapter, a lot to take in. Hope y'all enjoy. I don't need cussing warnings right? We're all adults._

 _ **Disclaimer: Still don't own it, surprise surprise.**_

* * *

Amirina stood with her hands clasped in front of her torso, a proper yet plain blue dress now donning her body. She had changed before leaving for Maester Rowlin with Jon. Never had she wanted to prove someone wrong more than she did now. It didn't run through her mind that that would require her to be with child. It meant that she would force him to regret the words he spoke so harshly behind her. It mattered not that his child would be born in nine moons. She didn't think of that. The thought didn't cross her mind at any point since their walk to the maester's tower.

"Ahh, Amirina," the voice of the old man rang out behind the shelves of books within the room. The voice was kind and full of happiness, a genuine reaction to her presence.

It made a smile crawl upon her lips. "How do you fare, Maester Rowlin?"

The chains rattled around his neck as he walked to greet them. He was aging beyond comprehension, far older than Maester Luwin. Wrinkles decorated his pearl skin and his eyes crinkled with a speck of joy as they blue orbs made contact with her own. His hair was like a wisp of white wind, barely there but one could faintly make the strands out. He was hunched over from the weight that the chains forced him to bear every day. He held a large tome within his hands and it seemed too heavy for his thin hands to bear.

"I am well, my dear," he smiled and motioned for her to approach.

Amirina could feel annoyance starting to drip within the air from the person to her right, yet she ignored it and approached the ancient man. He set the tome down on an aging oak table and took her warm hands within his cold ones. He patted the dorsal side of the soft hands and looked at her with a kindness she had yet to experience with an adult since arriving.

"Has your chill passed? Your flesh seems to feel rather comfortable," he analyzed, still holding on.

She smiled and shook her head, "I still feel a bit unwell, but the tea has been doing well for me. I am certain the gods will allow me health on the morrow."

He nodded his head and smiled lightly, a glaze almost covering his eyes. It happened often with him, she had observed. He would lose track of thought due to his age and would often glaze for a minute, like a cloud of fog on a calm ocean.

It passed quickly.

"That is quite good to hear, my dear. I am glad you bear such tidings," he said, patting her hand gently and releasing them. He turned to grab the tome and made a motion to start moving it. "What may I do for the two of you?"

Amirina took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak but her husband beat her to it.

"We need to know if she is with my child," he mumbled gruffly, his earlier slurring having left him quite quickly. He sounded far more educated when he spoke without the influence of drink.

The old man raised a sarcastic white eyebrow at Amirina from his hunched over position. She wanted to chuckle at his satirical expression, but she stayed stone-faced for now.

"Are you with child, Amirina?" the man asked, a bit of sarcasm transferring over to his voice.

She wanted to chuckle but kept her voice cordial, "I'm not sure, Maester Rowlin. But it has been nearly two moons." She took a deep breath then and swallowed her soon-to-be-dead pride. "With as much as we have…taken part in, I should be with child by now. Should I not?"

She could practically hear the Smalljon smirk beside her. It was a proud one and she knew without even looking. He rarely smirked with anything less than pride. And she wanted to rip his lips off should he do it once more.

"Mmm," the old man hummed, leaning over his main desk for a moment, rummaging for something. "When was your last moon blood, my dear?"

Amirina opened her mouth to speak but closed it as she pondered. She could not quite remember to be completely honest. She bled a few nights before her wedding but thought nothing of it. She swore she had bled when they arrived. She swore on her life she had. She remembered it having taken her by surprise and being quite annoyed she ruined a good slip that eve. She bled...did she not?

She ran a hand through her hair, fingers getting caught in the knots of her curls. "I am fairly certain that it was a few eves before my wedding," she said, panic starting to claw into her throat to choke her. It began to reach her heart, but not quite yet. The want to win and wipe the smirk off of her husband's face started to quickly dissipate. Regret of challenging him began to well up like a harsh rain after the dry season. He was going to win.

"But I am quite certain that I bled when we arrived some time ago," she quickly added, hoping to spare herself some form of security. She couldn't be with child.

Maester Rowlin stood still for a moment, his old hand coming to slowly stroke his withering chin. His clear blue eyes held a twinkle to them that she couldn't truly describe. They seemed to show his knowledge of what was transpiring but they showed a mirth as well, as if slightly amused by everything in life but cautious as well. Like an ocean almost. Calm and collected but somewhat rampant when forced.

"You have had just the chill?" the old man mused, as if to himself but out loud.

Amirina nodded. "That is true, Maester Rowlin. Simply a chill."

He shook his head in understanding. The old man turned to Jon and motioned as if asking if he could take Amirina. Rina heard only a grunt of approval from the Umber man. That was always his confirmation when he was agreeable.

Amirina watched as the old man motioned for her to follow him. She did as was wanted from her and began to follow him, the cold seeping from the stone floors through her slippers. A hand and arm of large proportions quickly snakes around her waist and the Martell girl knew who it was by the sheer mass by her side.

"He will touch ya," the rough voice of her husband whispered harshly into her ear. The warmth of his breath caused a shiver of anxiety to run through and down her spine. It was one of remembrance of how events usually ended up occurring after a quick whisper to the ear.

She nodded and tried her best to nudge him away. "I know, Jon. But if you wish to learn on whether or not I am _barren_ , he must."

The Smalljon grunted and released her torso, standing with his large arms crossed. Amirina took a deep breath and despite wanting to make a snide quip to her husband, she kept quiet, silently walking over to where the maester of the Last Heart stood waiting. He seemed to be engulfed in a book for a moment, his wrinkled finger gently trailing the words inscribed upon the page. He was learning something, or perhaps brushing up on a subject.

Amirina wondered curiously as to what he was quietly looking for, but she kept the wonders to herself for the moment. She did not wish to disturb his moment, as she knew of the frustrations when one interrupted your time within your mind. It had been happening far too often for Amirina's tastes lately.

"My dear," he started, not tearing his eyes from the book, "you have had only a few days of the chill, no?"

"You would be correct," she confirmed, nodding her head in the process confused by his asking of the question so many times.

He gave a sound of thought, as if trying to comprehend the meaning of her feelings the past few days. Amirina knew she couldn't be with child. She felt well and from what she had learned through secret readings throughout her life, she couldn't possibly be pregnant. It just wouldn't match up. It still would not click in her mind, however, that she would lose in this situation either way. Her mind wasn't allowing her to think of anything.

"When was the last time..." Rowlin paused, thinking of the correct way to state the question, "you and your husband consummated your relationship?"

Amirina wanted to chuckle slightly at the awkward wording, but she refrained from doing so. However, a shiver did run down the back of her neck just thinking about the fact that she was fucked nearly every eve by her husband. "The last time was-"

"Last week, 'fore I went on the hunt," her husband decided to chime in.

She looked back at him quickly and shot him a venomous glare, annoyed that he found another way to answer for her. She was not a child, yet he treated her damn near close to one.

"Ahh," the old man noted, grabbing a quill suddenly and hitting something down within the bound papers. Amirina found that strange but made no comment on it.

He then looked up to her for the first time, his blue eyes calculating, but not in the malicious way. "Have you felt tender at all?"

Rina opened and closed her mouth in one breath. Tender? Why, of course. Every woman felt tender at least once in their lives, did they not? Her breasts always pained her when her moon blood reared its ugly and painful head. Lately, her breasts had slightly been bothering her in the same way, but she attributed it to her husband's rough...dealings with them and her corsets she had recently been donning.

So she answered truthfully, thinking perhaps it was a sign of irritation and perhaps her moon blood was arriving. "Yes," she started, crossing her arms around her torso, "my…breasts have been as such recently. But, I have been wearing corsets far more actively than before. And I haven't been sparring as much, so I have been needing one as of late."

She didn't want to divulge in Jon's pleasures and she didn't want to divulge in her lack of pride in her body at the moment.

She definitely could feel the change in her body from the lack of sparring. She had not picked up a spear or practice rod in two moons. She had simply walked through the gardens and lounged around. She wasn't invited to hunts and she most definitely wasn't allowed to practice. It had taken a toll on her body and her mind. She felt…well she couldn't put a word to it but useless was damn close to it.

"Is that so?" the old man inquired, raising an eyebrow. He set down his quill after writing one last remark and then walked over to her, closing the short distance. "May I?" he asked, placing his hands at stomach level, motioning to feel her belly.

She sighed and nodded, her emotions unable to function at the moment. There had been so much back and forth within her mind that she wasn't even sure how she felt at the moment.

Despite having a layer of cloth between her flesh and the cold hands of the maester, she could still feel the chill as he touched her belly. It wasn't harsh prodding, more so calm and curious massaging. She did feel slightly uncomfortable with the man touching her body, yet she didn't feel just as uncomfortable as she was with her husband. She wanted to laugh at that thought. She'd rather have an old man touch her than her own husband. Oh how her life had turned out so far.

For a few more moments of silence, Maester Rowlin pressed lightly on her belly. She was about to tell him there was no longer a point in pressing against her stomach but he pressed a bit lower and she gave a sharp cry. The pain of him pressing in was sudden and only lasted as long as his fingers were there.

Within a few moments, Jon was by her side and pulling her away from the maester. "By old and new, what in the hells did you do to her?" For the first time since they were married, he sounded…concerned or protective? She really didn't care. She was still reeling from the sharp pain.

The old man smiled lightly and walked back over to his tome, writing a few things down. "It appears that your wife is with child. Her belly is hard, yet that contradicts her statements about sparring. Her breasts are tender, which means her body is preparing for her child. Her last moon blood was nearly two moons ago. She has been unwell, which is not uncommon," he said matter-of-factly.

Amirina began to reel. It began to hit her. She was with child. She was going to grow a child within her womb and birth it in a few moons. She would be a mother. She never even had a mother. How could she become one? She had no experience whatsoever with a babe. She had held her cousins, yes, but she had never taken care of them. Amirina was no mother. She was a cousin. She loved children. But she had none of her own. How could she even begin to carry a child within her? Her body was not ready for a child. She wasn't ready for a child.

"Rina?" the rough voice of her husband broke through her daze.

She looked over at him, noticing that his dark eyes held no malice within them for once. For once, he didn't seem like he wanted to ruin her day or night or week. He seemed genuinely concerned. Perhaps it was the want for him to be genuine, real. But it may have just been that want and she was seeing what she wished to be true.

She took in a deep breath and for once, she placed a trusting hand upon her husband's shoulder. "I…I need a bath," Amirina said shakily, her resolve beginning to crumble. No longer did she care about the fact that she had proven Job Umber wrong. No longer did she care that she was not barren. She cared that she was to become a mother and she was nowhere near ready for it. She cared that she had a husband who was only bent on fucking and drinking. She cared that his child was and had been growing within her womb. She cared that she was terrified.

Her husband nodded and spoke a few quiet words to the maester before ushering her out of the room and to the comfort of their own.

* * *

Amirina sat with her legs pulled to her chest in the bath. Her chin rested upon her wet knees and her hair was pulled into a circular clump upon her head. Stray strands gently swayed next to her face, some tucked away behind her ears. The water was turning lukewarm and she detested that, but she said nothing to change it. She simply sat there, a numbness enveloping her limbs and body. The tingling was neither painful nor pleasurable. It was simply…there.

"Thank you, Elena. She shall be happy to hear," the voice of her husband rang out from their chambers. The washing room was attached to the bed area, an archway separating the two areas. He had been apparently readying things for her and had been doing so for long enough that the water had turned from scalding hot to barely warm. She didn't care though; she couldn't find it in herself to care.

The door to their room was shut and she could hear her husband walking into the bathing room. Amirina wanted to sink into the water and never resurface. However, she could not think for herself anymore, she had to think for the child within her.

"Elena wanted to see ya," Jon said, entering into the room. He was pulling a chair behind him as he entered. He set it next to the bath and sat upon it. "She brought up a tray o' treats for ya. She wasn't sure which ones to bring, so she brought 'em all."

Amirina smiled lightly at the thought of dear Elena. The sweet girl didn't have to do that, but she did. She would have to find a way to thank her.

Jon dipped a hand into the water and noted, "It's no longer warm. I shall get ya out."

But before he could do anything, Amirina held up a hand for him to stop. "It is fine for now."

The Smalljon "hmph"-ed and leaned back in his chair. He crossed his arms across his chest and stared at her for a long few moments. Amirina could feel his eyes upon her, yet she said nothing. She was too tired to care about his stares and his newfound form of concern for her well-being. It was more than likely because she carried his heir within her body.

"What do ya wish for?" he suddenly asked.

She cocked an eyebrow and turned her head so she may look up at him. She still rested her head upon her knees. "What do you mean?"

The large, beast of a man shrugged. "Do ya wish for a boy or a girl?"

Amirina closed her eyes and sighed. She didn't know. She didn't know if she even wanted either. She wanted to be home in Dorne. She wanted for her father and uncle and anyone who was family. She didn't care if she was angered with them or not. She wanted family near her. But no one was close. Not even her cousins in Winterfell could help. No one could close the gap she felt at the moment.

"A boy," she answered after some moments of silence.

"For what reasons?"

"So you may have your heir," she said quietly, too tired to make up reasons. "You may have your son and you may be happy with your child."

He sat silent, his breathing the only thing Amirina could hear. He was breathing through his nose. Jon Umber seemed to have a tendency to do as such when he was deep within thought. He was far more appealing looking when he sat in thought than when he was drunk or speaking without thinking. He held a dark twinkle in his brown eyes that seemed to make them seem deeper than they truly were. He had creases in between his bushy eyebrows. A slight frown tugged at his lips beneath his wiry beard. She could still see the strength of his face beneath the hair, and she found the facial addition attractive on him. In no way was he an ugly man. He just had a wretched personality suited for a dull woman.

"Do ya want a daughter?" He asked, his voice low and slow.

Amirina chuckled mirthlessly and shook her head. "Now why, by old and new, would I want a daughter? I can not send a girl to a foreign place with a man she does not know and expect her to be with child within the moon. I can not do that willingly. I can not be my uncles. I would far rather have a son than a daughter."

The large man stared at her for a moment, harsh in manner yet it was harsh in the aspect of how deeply he was staring at her. There was no malice within him, simply curiosity.

Jon stood from his chair and retrieved a towel. He motioned for her to stand from the bath. Amirina sighed and did as such, surprised by the almost gentle grasp he placed upon her elbow to support her. She made sure to make it seem as though it did not affect her, but it truly did. It sent a shiver of anxiety through her body and a shiver of suspicion. Why he was suddenly so gentle and kind was beyond her. But perhaps she could take it to her advantage? She wasn't sure yet.

Her body still fell numb despite another's contact. At the moment…she simply existed.

* * *

"Are we nearly there, Jon?" Amirina asked, slightly strained.

"Aye, Rina," he answered, albeit a bit distracted in tone.

She gave a groan of annoyance and looked outside the wheel-house's windows. Trees were passing by slowly, almost too slowly. Amirina had to…relieve herself and the Smalljon kept telling her to wait until they arrived at Winterfell. But Amirina knew that was still hours away. They had made great time with their ride down, as they had managed to do it in half the time compared to when she left Winterfell four moons ago. Now, she was obviously growing with child and she was far more comfortable with her husband. She did not love him. No, she probably never would. But she could tolerate him now, even jest with him at times. The past two moons had proven helpful with their relationship. Her bearing of his child had proven helpful to their relationship. He treated her less like a warm body to fuck and more like his wife and lady and mother to his child.

"Jon, by old and new," she started, looking over to him, "if we do not stop at this moment, I shall piss on this seat."

He looked up from a few scrolls within his hands and rolled his eyes at her. She knew he had grown tired of her restless behavior, but she also knew that he was doing very well without mead within him. He was a far different man when dry. He rarely used harsh words towards her, unless completely aggravated by her. He was far kinder and more gentle than ever. He jested with her often and she found herself laughing with him. She ensured to keep him away from mead and ale as much as she possibly could. In the beginning, he was always heavy with drink. Perhaps it was why he acted the way he did. He was now a decent person that Amirina found some form of friendship or kinship in.

"Ya piss on the seat, and I'll force ya to ride bareback," he threatened, his voice somewhat serious and somewhat joking. Amirina didn't want to risk it though. She was already uncomfortable with sitting in the chair within the wheel-house. She couldn't possibly ride bareback for any amount of time.

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. "Do ya think that'll stop me?"

Jon rolled his eyes and sighed heavily from annoyance. He raised a hand out of the window and slapped the side of the wheel-house a few times. "Ma wife needs a short break," he called out. Not even seconds later, the whole caravan halted and Jon opened the door for her.

She nodded her head in thanks and picked up her skirts so she could exit much easier. Amirina was near to stepping out but Jon placed a hand around her bicep. "Go quickly, Rina. Wildlin's still roam these trees."

She placed her hand upon his own and gently took it off, acknowledging his words. Amirina was no daft girl. She knew about the wildlings that had gone as far south as Winterfell before. These forests were no different. She had been careful then, she would be careful now. Quickly, he slipped a dagger into her hand with a "just for caution".

"Ya might as well join me," she teased slightly but did have some serious backing to it. He made her rather nervous acting in such a manner.

He shook his head and ushered her out. "Ya can take care o' yerself," he grunted, his accent heavy in that moment. It usually was when he was speaking quickly or when he was inebriated or when he was mumbling. He didn't care as much for the way his words came out as long as they did.

It was a compliment nonetheless, as it meant he acknowledged her abilities, something most husbands failed to do. Ever since they learned of her carrying of his child, he treated her with far more respect than he ever had. He treated her like an equal, and despite it being a bit refreshing like a cold gust of wind, it made her far too suspicious and it caused for her to walk as if she was treading on glass.

Amirina stepped out of the wheel-house and tried her best to walk swiftly. She really did have to relieve herself, as the baby continuously demanded it. Never had she had to do as such more in her life than in the previous moon. She probably woke up around three times within the night to go, and she rather hated it. She enjoyed a full restful night and rarely did she get that.

Amirina broke the tree-line and walked a bit more to find a secluded spot. The trees stood tall and ominous, as they always did in the North. They had no leaves, only needles that were shed once a year but still somehow managed to stay there. There was no snow at the moment and Amirina was thankful for that. It would have made the endeavor a bit more challenging. Instead, there was old needles upon the ground that crunched with every step she took. While she hated the sound, she decided to ignore it. If someone was there, they would have already done something.

Quickly, Amirina lifted her skirts and sat against the trunk of a tree. She had grown used to the practice, as she had had to do it multiple times when on the road. It was normal to her now. As she did her business, she looked around at the trunks and flat dirt and grass. The trees were old, very old. She could tell by how tall they were. None of them had needles below her height. They all started around double or triple her height. She found it odd that trees could grow to such a height, but she guessed that it was due to lack of people. Everything seemed prettier when it was away from the grasp of humans.

Amirina finished her business quickly and went to leave, but was stopped by the sound of crunching needles. The sound didn't come from her left, which was the path back to the road. It came from her right, which was the path deeper into the forest. She brushed a few strands of hair behind her ears and let her eyes roam the landscape. She knew she had heard crunching. From what it was? She did not know. Despite her mind yelling and screaming at her to turn and run (or at least walk briskly) back to the crowd of people on the road, she began to walk deeper into the forest.

As she thought earlier, if someone wanted to kill her, they would have done so fairly handedly by now.

She subconsciously placed a hand on her belly, as if that could protect the child that was growing within. Rina had allowed the dagger to slip out of her sleeve and into her hand as she walked, preparing to use it if only necessary.

The sound of rapidly crunching needles sounded behind her and she resisted the urge to turn around. She instead turned to her left, having heard the footfalls from right to left. In just enough time, Amirina came face to face with a young man. He had ragged brunette hair that was similar to the style of that of Northern folk. His eyes were large and bright brown, much like the color of oak wood. He was young, as his growing beard began to show. His face was sculpted in an attractive but obviously starving way. It was as if he ate as much as he needed to to survive. He was a little bit taller than her, but he could still have been growing.

"Young lass like ya shouldn't be out alone," he said, his words thick with the accent of the free-folk.

Amirina chuckled slightly, gripping her dagger tightly. "Young man like you shouldn't sneak up on a lady."

He cocked his head to the side and began to inspect her, slowly walking around her like a wolf does a doe. "Yer not from these 'ere parts, are ya? Yer words…they're strange."

"I wouldn't expect a wildling to ever learn of Dorne," she stated matter-of-factly. Her hazel eyes caught sight of the makeshift spear in his hand, a slight pickup in her heart rate starting. She looked back up at him and took in the rest of his appearance. He was dressed like one would think. Furs covered his body in an assortment of articles and he had a string of rabbits hanging over his shoulder. "This is fairly far south for a wildling…"

"We gotta make do sometimes," he said, almost distracted. "Gets rather…scarce up north."

Amirina cocked a dark eyebrow and felt suspicion crawling through her body like a bug. "You sure it's not because of a certain Umber?" Amirina was not stupid. She heard what her husband did to wildlings. She knew the rumors were true. She also knew of the most recent wildling the Greatjon had chained up.

In a flash, the man was holding the edge of the sharp spear head against her neck. He pressed into her flesh enough to cause slight searing pain but not enough to drain blood. She wriggled slightly but stood still, her heart racing and blood pumping throughout her veins like a tempest. She knew he wouldn't kill her. Or…she hoped to the old and new he wouldn't.

"The Umba lords **deserve** only _death_ ," he hissed out, his warm breath hitting her nose like a slap.

"I assume it's due to my husband's antics?" she breathed out, speaking without thinking obviously as the spear began to draw drops of blood

The man then sneered and gave a crooked smile. "Ah, so yer the Umba's lass, eh? Per'aps, if I kill ya, yer 'usband will stop?" He seemed to truly be contemplating it. "Though, I heard he could give a shit less bout ya." The wildling was toying with her.

She rolled her eyes, her fight or flight instinct starting to be overcome by the need to give a sarcastic rebuttal. "I could give a shit less about him," Amirina jabbed back, shrugging her shoulders. In reality, she wasn't telling a total lie. There were points when it was true but then other points when she had grown to be…fond(?) of him once more.

"Then per'aps-"

He was cut off by the sound of feet approaching. A lot of feet. His head turned quickly and he sneered back at Amirina. "I'll find ya again, lass," he whispered with a venom she had never heard before. It wasn't impersonal, yet it wasn't personal either. The wildling man darted off into the trees, quickly escaping before the footsteps arrived. Her hazel eyes tracked his silhouette until he was enveloped by the shadows of the trees, despite the sun that shone through to some of the dirt below.

She placed a hand upon her neck just as multiple men with weapons arrived, her husband leading them. She paid them no attention, however, as her pounding heart heaved in her chest while she stared at the red liquid-life upon her palm.

* * *

Amirina took an excited yet anxious deep breath.

"Ya haven't seen 'em in..."

"Four moons," Amirina finished for her husband. She didn't dare spare a glance at him, as she was too busy marveling at the structures of Winterfell surrounding them as they approached.

The tall dark wall that encased the keep stood ominous yet welcoming to those who had seen the inside before. She smiled widely at seeing the welcome view and couldn't wait to traverse the grounds again. She would be staying the the guest tower with Jon, yet she doubted she would stay there long. She would more than likely trapeze from room to room, visiting each of her cousins. Then a frown fell upon her face. Jon Snow.

She hadn't even been given a goodbye by her best friend. She didn't even know what she had done to have warranted such treatment. It stung her heart and her mind like a thorn pricking her skin. She doubted he would want to see her anyways, so perhaps she would never cast eyes upon him. Perhaps the feelings that had disappeared since her departure would stay gone. Perhaps she would stay and be happy with her family and leave with no other thoughts plaguing her. Yes, that sounded all well and good for Amirina.

She looked over at Jon and gave a bright smile. It wasn't one for him, but one for the anticipation of seeing her cousins.

"Ya look far happier to be 'ere, than in ma home," he chuckled lightly, a sound foreign to Amirina. She decided to ignore her surprise.

"It's because I am, Jon," she teased slightly. She was happier to see the gates of Winterfell than she was the gates of the Last Hearth. "I practically grew up here."

"Ya lived in Dorne, Rina," he pointed out as they entered the gates.

She crossed her arms and leaned against the corner of the wheel-house. "Well, yes. But, my father and I would often travel to Winterfell multiple times in a year. So therefore, I did, in a sense, dear husband, grow up in Winterfell."

Her husband chuckled and she couldn't help but smile. This is what she wanted her entire marriage. She knew that she wouldn't get it. She would have glimpses but never the whole thing. She knew that he was simply acting in such a way due to her carrying his child. After the run in with the wildling, he had immediately gone for her belly. He didn't even spare a glance at her face or her throat, just her stomach. That's when it was confirmed for her that this behavior of his would only last as long as a child was growing within her womb. She was okay with it, however. Once the child was born, she would have them to lean on for support. Before her pregnancy, she had no one. Elena could only provide so much in comfort. Now, she would have that comfort that she wasn't completely alone in the harsh snow.

She might as well take advantage of the time when she had it.

"Ma lord," a voice called into the wheel-house, "we 'ave arrived. The Starks are waitin' for ya."

Amirina felt dread drop into the pit of her gut as she watched the door open and her husband step out. Her hand sprawled onto her belly, which would not be hidden by a cloak or coat, as it was not cold enough for one. What would her cousins say? What would Catelyn and Ned say? Perhaps they would all be ecstatic to learn of her pregnancy. Perhaps Catelyn would judge her? No. She would never judge her. Ned would be stoic yet happy, as he would know what that meant for the houses. Bran and Rickon wouldn't have a clue as to what it truly meant. Arya would sort of understand. Sansa, Robb, and Jon would all understand. They would see their cousin, someone they grew up with, with a child in her womb. She wasn't quite sure how they would take that.

Her heart began to speed up and her breathing quickened in pace. She began to feel rather faint, but she knew she had to do this at some point. It was Robb's nameday in a matter of days anyways. She had to make an appearance, pregnant or not.

Amirina found her husband's large hand and placed her own within it. He grasped it lightly, a stark contrast to the time when they were leaving Winterfell. She felt him tug her slightly to usher her out and not waste time. Taking a deep breath of Northern air, Amirina stepped out of the wheel-house and onto Winterfell soil for the first time in moons. She observed the grey sky and slightly ominous amount of clouds above. Her eyes caught several larks chirping in the air as they glided gracefully upon the wind. Her ears picked up the sound of work, through iron swords being bent into place by hammers and horses neighing from the stables. The smell was wet and full of dirt and work, much like as if it had recently rained. She could tell it had, as the dirt beneath her was slightly muddier than usual. It was Winterfell.

And as she turned her head to see her extended family, she locked eyes immediately with the one person who had made it their mission to avoid her.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Another long chapter! And guess what, she's pregnant! She's gotta be, amiright? Wasn't uncommon in this "time" to fall pregnant easily, especially since fertility was high and contraception was super duper low. Also, if you're confused about Smalljon, he's acting super nice because even then, they knew about stress and pregnancy. He's only kind to her at the moment because: 1) he's a damn good liar and 2) he wants his hold to be perfect when it is born._

 _Wonder who the wildling is? Don't worry, he's an OC that'll become pivotal much later. If anyone wants a face to him, I imagine Sam Claflin._

 _A little bit of focus on this Winterfell experience coming up, but then time skips will be frequent again. Only a few more chapters until canon begins! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I wanna thank all of you for your support and reviews!_

 _Love ,_

 _P_

 _ **HPuni101** \- Thanks for the review love! Hope ya enjoyed this chapter. Don't worry about Rina, an escape isn't in the very near future but one might be necessary ;) Looking forward to your reviews!_

 _ **NRT** \- No problem, love! Thanks for the review, hope you enjoyed this one!_

 _ **monkeybaby** \- Thank you love! Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!_

 _ **Vgn** \- Haha, impatient are we? Lol I am the same way! Thanks for the review and hope you enjoyed this chapter!_

 _ **Guest** \- Thank you! I hope you wish to continue reading and being a part of this community that has grown!_


	17. Chapter 17

_**A/N:** I think it's safe to say I've never been more discouraged to write a chapter in my life. And I hope it doesn't show. This was a tough one and my AN at the bottom will explain why. Thank you all._

 _I apologize for the delay as well, as I had surgery on my arm halfway through the chapter so it's been hard to write, hence the shortness of it. I'm also starting counseling again so perhaps that will help my writing quality as well, as depression takes a toll when you want to write. Thank you all for your support._

 _Enjoy :)_

 _ **Disclaimer: Same old, same old**_

* * *

Amirina took a deep breath and turned her head away. She felt that when she met eyes with the bastard child of Ned Stark, those fleeting feelings she had felt, were…no longer there. She thought that she would feel an overwhelming tidal wave of them suddenly crashing upon her. But…she didn't. It was rather disappointing for her, but she waved it off. She had a family to greet and she was rather tired of waiting to see them.

"Rina!" Arya cried out, a wide and mischievous grin upon her young features.

Amirina smiled and quickly let go of her husband's grasp, walking down to meet her young cousin halfway. "Little wolf!" she chuckled, kneeling down and opening her arms.

Arya giggled and hugged Amirina around the neck tightly. The Martell smiled wide and enclosed her arms around the youngest Stark daughter. Suddenly, she felt a multitude of arms around her and she knew who it was.

"Bran! Rickon! My little pups!" she exclaimed jovially. She pulled away from Arya for a moment and embraced all three of them as best she could, knowingly squishing them a little in the process. "I have missed you all so dearly! It's quite lonely that far north without your lovely faces to brighten the days!" A bit dramatic but it wasn't totally.

"Rina! I'm learnin' 'ow to fight!" Bran stated, pulling away to show his muscles.

"Are you now? You must certainly be far better than I ever could be!"

Arya was not far behind to make a remark. "Well I've been practicin' too, Rina. I'm better than Bran!"

"Ah ah ah," Amirina lightly scolded, "have you bested him in combat?"

Arya looked down and began to roll a foot in the dirt. "Well no, but-"

Rina smile and placed a hand on Arya's cheek, tilting her head up. "You cannot say you are far better than someone until you have lain them upon their backs with a sword to their throat. Then you may state your superiority in the art," she said, her words a bit harsh which she realized moments later, "But for yourself and your brother, here, you best him by forcing his yield. No swords quite yet young wolves."

Arya and Bran chuckled at her words and sent competitive glances towards one another. And little Rickon sat there, silent as the dead, simply watching the exchange. His eyes were wide with awe at his siblings and with something akin to adoration. He was far too young to know of such a thing but Rina knew he loved them dearly.

"What is that you have in your hands, little one?" Amirina asked, diverting her attention to the youngest Stark child.

Rickon noticed she was talking to him and proudly held up a small animal. It looked like a simple blue wolf sewn to be soft in nature and squeezable. Both of his small hands clutched onto the stuffed toy with a pride normal to children, but seen as strange to those who were grown. It was held high above his head, as high as it could be. A beaming smile lit up his young and chubby (baby fat of course) features, and Amirina found it wildly contagious.

"This is Blue!" he exclaimed, shaking the wolf slightly. "Blue is for you!"

He handed the wolf to Amirina and she couldn't help but admire it. The septon or perhaps Cat had made it. It was simple really, but quaint. It was rather good stitching and the look was adorable. Amirina loved it. She looked down at her cousin and hugged him tightly. "Thank you, Rickon. Blue is quite wonderful. He will love the Last Hearth."

The child laughed gayly and separated from her. Amirina stood from her spot and began to approach the rest of the family. Cat and Ned stood still, smiled upon their aging features. Robb and Sansa stood quietly, but she could see that both were slightly fidgeting, as if resisting the urge to follow their younger siblings.

"Uncle Ned, Aunt Cat," Rina started, curtsying slightly. A wide grin was set upon her lips and she couldn't stop herself from quickly approaching them and hugging them. She had no need for the damned formalities they were conducting. They were family.

"Rina," Catelyn nearly gushed, a first for the normally stiff woman, "you're glowing, my dear, much like the sun in the Riverlands." Her hands were holding onto her biceps and the Tully-blue eyes looked her up and down.

"It is because she is with child, Cat," Eddard stated sarcastically, a rare display on his part. Catelyn shot him a nearly playful look and Amirina felt her head running. When by the old and new had she ever seen the pair of them…playful? Perhaps stress was at a new low for them?

Catelyn stole her attention back and smiled warmly, "We shall discuss later, my dear. Greet the rest of your cousins. We shall have a private feast this eve."

Amirina nodded her head in appreciation and looked over at Robb and Sansa. A wicked grin warped onto her lips and she placed her hands upon her hips. "Which one of you shall break first?"

Within the second, both had immediately began to crush her with a hug, as if they had planned it. "Now do be gentle," she breathed out, slightly uncomfortable, "there is a child within me."

Sansa pulled back and gasped, her bright blue eyes wide with excitement. "You're with child?"

Amirina smiled and nodded, a sense of unknown pride welling within her. She was still uncomfortable with the idea of having a child. At times she felt rather panicked and could barely breathe. But other times, she remembered memories with Bran and Rickon and Arya, and she wanted that daily. It would be her escape. She was no fool. She knew that once her child was born into the world, Jon Umber would resume his ways. No man changes that quickly forever. They change that quickly for a reason. His was his heir existing and growing within her womb. It left a vile taste on her tongue.

Robb looked at her and shyly motioned towards her stomach, as if silently asking permission. She found no reason to deny his request and nodded her head. It felt rather strange to have someone's hands upon her belly, but it wasn't bad. Just…new. Her husband rarely did it, if at all. He would look at her belly and that was it. It was strange and Amirina felt uncomfortable whenever he simply just stared.

This feeling though, of people she knew touching and gently feeling her stomach…it was rather calming. She knew her child would be loved, not only by her, but by the family that loved her as their own.

"Will it be a boy or a girl?" Sansa asked suddenly, her blue eyes staring with wonder as she pressed lightly.

Rina shrugged and turned her head to see the Smalljon ordering some men to complete some tasks. She then looked down to see the other three Stark children had joined them by then.

"I will be an aunt!" Arya exclaimed as if having some sort of divine revelation.

Robb shook his head and chuckled, "She's not your actual sister, Arya. Ya can't be an aunt."

Amirina shook her head. "Nonsense! All of you are better brothers and sisters than the half ones I have in Dorne. You all shall be aunts and uncles." She then looked over at Jon, who seemed to be absorbing the whole situation. She smiled lightly and added, "You as well, Snow. You've as much Stark blood in you, as I."

His head shot up at that remark and in his eyes, Amirina saw a hint of guilt yet relief wash through them. He stayed silent but she knew it would take time for him to come around. His own time. He needed reflection on whatever forced him to stop speaking with her for so long. It was his own issues to sort, not her own. He was ten and six now, he could do this on his own.

Suddenly, her mind warped to a different place. Nameday! The damned reason she was here!

"Robb! Jon!" she suddenly exclaimed, her cheeks burning bright at her own embarrassment. "By old and new, I nearly forgot. Happy nameday! I simply cannot believe the pair of you are ten and six!"

She then looked back at the wheel-house and wondered if her trunk had been taken to her chambers already. "I shall gift you both this eve, as I know I missed the feast by two days, which I sincerely apologize for."

Robb gave her a wide smile and Jon's stormy grey eyes were large with surprise. She may have been hurt by his actions, but Amirina knew how to forgive. He was ten and five, or had been at least. She knew how boys were. She understood that they acted childish for most of their lives, some until death in their "wise" years. He had been acting childish for some reason she did not know, but she would forgive him. Not forget, but forgive until he grew up and gave a reason for his antics.

She then turned to all of her cousins and smiled. "Now, my dear wolves, what have I missed?"

* * *

Oberyn Martell sat at the grand table, his head within his hands. He had just received raven from his daughter detailing her " _news_ ". She was with child. His daughter was to have a child. A daughter he could clearly remember having just been born. She was ten and seven, barely a woman, yet she would be a mother soon enough. Only a few more moons to be exact. Oberyn had no idea as to what to think. His mind was running blank.

Hands began trailing down from his shoulders to his chest. The Red Viper did not need to look to know whose hands they were. His paramour had hands that he had memorized by the indents within her palms. She was the only one allowed to touch him when in such a vulnerable state.

"What is the matter, my Viper?" she almost hissed seductively into his ear. At the moment, he was in no mood for such activities (a first truly).

His fist crumbled the piece of parchment, his veins beginning to bulge.

"My daughter," he vocalized lowly, "has _fallen_ with child."

"You state that as if it is a plague," Ellaria noted, her tone becoming slightly bored. Oberyn knew of her lack of love for his trueborn daughter. He just did not care.

Looking up, he tossed the piece of paper across the table, rage filling his veins. "That is because it is, my love. A man unworthy of my child has filled her with his seed. A man that she does not love. A man not worthy of a princess. He has infiltrated her body. _My_ _daughter's_ _body_." His words were seeping with hate and disgust.

"I cannot believe my dear Amirina has allowed it to happen," he said offhand, almost distracted. In truth, he was disturbed by his daughter's apparent lack of voicing against her situation. Oberyn blamed the North and the damned Starks, yet he would never voice it.

Ellaria pulled her hands away from his body and moved to stand beside his chair, kneeling upon the stone floors. She looked up at him with her dark brown eyes and placed a tanned hand upon his face. It was a rare display of tenderness on her part and Oberyn knew she was trying to receive something in her benefit for feeling sympathy. He allowed it, encouraged it even.

"My Viper," she said, her voice soft at the moment. It was a stark contrast from her normally rough and careless tone. "Perhaps, your daughter is content with her…situation. Perhaps she is happy."

Oberyn then grabbed her hand suddenly and looked down at his paramour. "I did not raise Amirina to be content. The daughter I raised would have fought the betrothal to the end. This woman I read of…she is not my daughter. Amirina Martell does not sit in complacency nor does she allow a man to raid her body and fill her with his child. That is _not_ my daughter."

He meant every word he spoke. He had unwillingly gone along with his brother's plan. He had agreed simply to agree. At the time, he had not cared too greatly. It was a somewhat good political match. Then, Oberyn dug. He dug into the House of Umber. He had little snakes scattered across Westeros and Essos alike. It wasn't until a few moons ago that he truly understood the house controlling the Last Hearth. Since then, he had sat in silence trying to figure out a way to retrieve his daughter from the north. No more Starks. No more Umbers. There was a reason the snakes did not stay north. A reason why Dorne stayed separate.

Now, he understood why. His daughter had fallen soft. Too soft. He had hoped her time up north would benefit her. And now, he realized he had made the mistake of allowing her to stay. He had been too soft. Katerina Stark had made him soft for a time. She was a northerner. They brought the snow along with them. He realized he had set his daughter up for complacency. He wouldn't have it.

 _Let Amirina have her child_ , he thought. But once the babe was born, she would become Dornish once more.

* * *

Amirina laughed as the children pulled her every which way. The feast was small and private. Yet, it seemed as though the children still wanted to dance. She found entertainment within their actions and couldn't help but smile at them and with them.

"My little ones," she chuckled, trying to retrieve their attentions, "I must gift your brothers! It is why I am here."

Arya made a grumble at her words and Bran and Rickon seemed saddened. Rina's hazel eyes rolled and she kneeled upon the ground.

"Allow me time for this and I shall read you all a story this eve?" she proposed, her words kind and gentle.

The trio nodded and without another word, they dispersed to different places within the hall. She wasn't sure as to what they would do, but they were children. Children could find entertainment in the smallest things.

Amirina took a deep breath and stood fully, patting her deep blue dress slightly. It was fairly plain but the color complimented her paling skin according to Sansa. She wanted to laugh at the girl's growing sense of…appearance. Within a few hours, Amirina realized how the child was now growing to have an opinion on everything involving dresses and hair. She even did Rina's hair, managing to pull the dark curls into a braid from the middle of her hairline and down the back of her skull and down. She had scattered a few small forget-me-nots within the braid.

Amirina sighed and looked down at her belly. Giving a small chuckle, she rubbed it slightly. "Gods, I wish I had never left," she muttered to herself. She felt the difference in the air between her and her older cousins. She felt the slight tension between her and her aunt and uncle. Winterfell was different and Amirina wasn't sure what to do. She was no longer part of the family. She was a guest. It was…different.

The Martell girl took a breath in and then searched the lit hall for her older cousins, Robb and Jon specifically. She had gotten the both of them similar gifts, as she felt it would not be fair to give one a larger or more extravagant gift than the other. She had had medallions made for the both of them, a Stark direwolf snarling in the center of stitched silver. She knew Jon would never wear it, but in hopes of him one day being legitimized, perhaps he would. She had wished to give them each a new sword, but her husband did not allow it. She nearly tore his head off in the argument that ensued but Rina knew that arguing with him rarely ended well for her, so she backed down. It was all she could do until she had some reassurance. Her reassurance at the moment was the babe growing within her. It was all she needed. But the gifts were made before she could have such a thing.

Rina looked down and admired the two medallions for a moment, her hazel eyes glinting from the gleam of the silver under the light. Smiling, she looked back up and began to walk towards a smaller table where Robb and Theon sat. She knew Jon would more than likely not be there after she had caught sight of the Winterfell heir without his half-brother. She felt disappointment in that revelation, yet she forced herself to look cheerful as she approached the dynamic duo.

Amirina say herself down on the bench and hid the medallions in a pocket within her skirts, proceeding to plop her head in her hands. She wished to annoy the pair and tried to look interested as they spoke about a few girls (it is what the topic seemed to be carrying).

"Ros 'as an arse tha' everyone loves," Theon seemed to argue, his redhead whore coming up. Amirina cocked an eyebrow. He still rather fancied the girl, did he now?

"No, Theon," Robb rolled his eyes, "I rather don't."

He seemed smug in his confession and Amirina couldn't help but chuckle, feeling a bit of nostalgia hit her like a wave upon a shore.

Robb looked over at her with a look of surprise. "What?" he asked, rather confused as to why she laughed.

Amirina shook her head and patted Robb's forearm. "I apologize for interrupting your marvelous conversation, as you two are clearly deep in discussion about very important matters," she then turned to face her uncle's ward, "I find it quite entertaining that you, Theon, are still fond of the whore. I assumed you would tire of her red hair sooner or later. But I presume it shall be the latter."

Theon gave a chuckle and nodded his head. "Aye, tha' it shall be. She's a good fuck. Who could tire of tha'?"

Amirina rolled her eyes but smiled. The time apart had made Theon seem far more bearable, that and he wasn't making comments about Amirina. So, she found his words a bit humorous.

"I wouldn't doubt it," she jested. But she turned to Robb quickly and asked, "May I steal you for a moment to go find your brother. I have something for your namedays, which I'm very sorry to have missed."

Robb looked over at Theon and the ward shrugged, standing up to go gods knew where. So Robb stood as well and helped Amirina out of her seat. She smiled and gave a quiet thank you, taking his arm and linking her's with it.

Amirina knew where Jon would likely be, but she did not wish to see him alone. She feared for what he would say, if he would say anything.

"What's it like?"

"I'm sorry?" Amirina quickly replied, a bit confused as they began to walk towards the large doors.

Robb turned towards her and looked down, his height having grown quite a bit since she last saw him. "What's it like? In the Last Hearth."

The tanned girl gave an "oh" and shrugged her shoulders. "It is about as boring as one would expect. Wildlings are common. The snow falls lightly now, but it still plagues the ground. I rather hate it, to be quite honest. The only friends I have are the Maester, who I believe is even older than Luwin, and a child, no older than Arya. Her name is Elena. She was quite annoying at first, but she was the only one that would talk to me. My handmaid is a bit skittish still, lovely but a bit quiet." It was like a waterfall that had been blocked and could finally spill over.

It was like a gust of cold yet refreshing wind blew through Amirina. And she relished in it.

Robb gave a chuckle and shook his head, "It seems they are a bit too old there for ya?"

Rina laughed and nudged him slightly. "I believe they are, dear cousin. It is strange to not be surrounded by children after so long of it. I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. My father surely never prepared me for stern northernmen."

The eldest Stark placed a hand on top of her own and rubbed it comfortingly. He gave her a smile, his Tully-blue eyes crystalline. "Don't worry, Rina. I'm sure they shall be more agreeable once ya have shown off your sparring."

"I have yet to spar since a moon before I left, Robb. I doubt anyone would be impressed by such a feat."

Her cousin stopped dead in his tracks and turned towards her. "By old and new, Rina!" he tried to not shout. "Are ya ill? Are ya mad? How have ya not sparred in, what, five moons?"

Feeling a hint of the red of embarrassment crawling upon her cheeks, she dipped her head. "Well, I have been with child and my husband does not really…how should I say it? He doesn't rather fancy myself sparring."

She would not say what he did fancy.

Robb gave a groan and rolled his eyes. He looked down at her and grabbed her other hand. "Rina," he said softer, "I don't really give a damn 'bout your husband. If he won't let ya spar, he's mad. He knows you're a Martell, right? A Stark and a Martell? Fightin' is in your blood, cousin. Ya can't not use it."

If only he knew what could happen if she did it.

She smiled and patted his cheek. "Thank you, Robb. I shall resume it once the babe has arrived." She wouldn't.

Wishing to change the subject and find their target, Amirina pulled him forward and jested slightly, "And when did you, Robb Stark, become articulate and rather mature?"

The Stark chuckled and nudged her like a child. "It was when ya were off making a child and when Sanaa's septa heard me speaking as if I had 'horse shit in my mouth'."

Amirina laughed at the words and couldn't help the ache in her heart. She missed Winterfell. She missed her cousins and aunt and uncle. She hated the Last Hearth. She hated her husband. She promised herself to not hate her child. But she hated herself. She hated how she allowed Jon Umber to do as he wished. She hated how she was unsure of what occurred daily. She hated her current predicament. She wanted to be back in Dorne. She wanted out of the far North. She wanted for the days when she could ride on a Dornish stallion and feel the salt of the sea upon her face. She wanted for the days she would take Bran and Rickon and Arya to the hot springs. She wanted her family back, not the façade she had. She wanted her home.

But she kept those thoughts quiet, for no wife ever thought in such a way.

* * *

The godswood was just as beautiful as it had been before she left. Snow had melted from the ground, yes, but the grass was starting to return to its green state. The blood-red leaves of the weirwood tree were beginning to return, but the face carved upon it still haunted her. The pale bark and grim features ripped Amirina's mind back to the moment of the painful burn upon her shoulder. Without conscious thought, her hand drifted to the spot and could feel the scar under the fabric of her dress. She tried her best to forget about it, but it was much easier said than done.

Giving a breath, Amirina dipped her head and quietly began praying. She did so everyday, whether it be in front of a weirwood or into her hands. Her time in the far North had increased her beliefs greatly. She prayed not to the new gods, but to the old still. She found it far easier, and she hated the idea of The Seven. There were far more than just seven gods and Amirina could feel it in the wind. She knew they were there around her. She could feel it.

She prayed for health and fortune. She prayed for it to be bestowed upon her family, Stark and Martell. She wished for her father to be well. She wished for little Elena to be having fun despite her loneliness. She prayed her trip back to the Last Hearth would be safe and easy. She prayed that her childbirth would go smoothly. She prayed her child would be healthy and without fault. She prayed for her own health. She prayed for her cousins and her aunt and uncle. She wished for the poor folk to have warmth and a good yield in crops this year. She prayed for children to be gay and full of love. She prayed for a warm year and plenty of dry days.

She prayed not for her husband.

Opening her eyes, Amirina looked down at the silver medallion she had in her palms. She had given Robb his, as they had been unable to find Jon Snow three eves ago. So, for three days, Amirina had hung onto the gift, anxious as to when she would be able to give it to the Stark bastard. She was to leave within a few days and she did not wish to leave with it.

Her thumb gently traced the design and a small smile graced her lips. The silver was cross-hatched and the direwolf head took center stage. It was quite beautiful in craftsmanship. It wasn't too showy or too much. Amirina believed it simple enough that the two cousins would like it. Robb had loved it and thanked her immensely for it. She was happy but the weight of possibly never giving it to Jon weighed greatly upon her.

A crunching of boots upon old grass caused Amirina to whip her head to her left. Standing a few feet away was the cousin in question. His stormy-grey eyes were wide and it looked as if he was about to turn and bolt, but Amirina stopped him.

"Jon!" she smiled wide, trying not to show the hurt in her eyes of how he seemed he wanted to leave. He had been her best friend. Now, he looked at her as if he were a stranger. She thought she could handle it when she first saw him. But she couldn't. Now she couldn't.

He stood stock-still. He was unsure it seemed. Unsure as if to leave or to stay. It pained her.

"I-" she paused, looking down at the medallion, her heart heavy, "I never…um I never was able to give you your nameday gift."

She then stood from her spot and quickly rushed over to him, only a few inches away. Her heart was racing and she seemed nervous. She was, in all truth of the matter. Nervous her cousin would not speak or acknowledge the gift. She just wanted to give it to him and run. Run from the fact that her hands were shaking lightly. Run from the fact that her heart beat slightly faster than just from the nerves. Run from the hurt within her.

She failed to meet his eyes.

Fumbling with the trinket, Amirina quickly held it up and over to him. "I know, I know you're a Snow. But…but I believe that you're a Stark. In my eyes you are. And perhaps, one day, your father will have the king legitimize you. I'm not quite sure how the process works, but I believe in it. So, here is your nameday gift."

She stood in silence for a moment.

After another moment, before she could decide to retract her hands, she felt the pressure of the medallion leave her palms. She looked up and saw Jon giving her a smile, a genuine smile. A smile she had not seen in moons. A smile she had missed.

"It's quite nice, Rina," he said softly, looking down at the gift. His voice seemed to hold a line of remorse and regret, as if he regretted his behavior. "I apologize for my…actions. It wasn't fair to you."

His words seemed memorized. Meticulous in manner. But Rina was too happy to care to take note of that.

"It's alright, Snow," she said, trying to calm herself down. She had to restrain herself from hugging him. All she could do was smile. "Everyone needs some time."

Jon nodded his head and looked around the godswood, his ticks of discomfort noticeable. He scratched the back of his neck and sighed, clearly uncomfortable. But Rina did not acknowledge it. She didn't want to.

"Would ya like to walk, Rina?" he asked, offering his arm as he pocketed his gift.

Rina only nodded before linking her arm with his.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** This chapter was a bit shorter. It was hard to get the interactions. Really hard. And I'll admit, I've been a bit discouraged. As you all probably saw the review, you can maybe understand why. I've rewritten this chapter so many times. But I realized that ya know, it's hard. It's hard to get the book to be as everyone wants, ya know? I like it this way and I know others do as well, so I'm content._

 _Amirina is so hard to write because she's so young and it is hard to be 17 and pregnant and trying to please your family. I would know. I made a mistake and ya know, when that happens, you try to please everyone. You try to do what you're told to do. You ignore so many things because they can hurt you. So I really wanted to make Amirina seem that way. She's being pulled in so many directions, she shuts it off. She wants to be childish because she can no longer be that way. She wants her friendship back with Jon, because he was her best friend. She can't decide whether she wants Winterfell or Dorne, because both are Home to her. It's hard. Yes, she's 17 and technically a royal, but nothing prepares you for real life. Nothing does. It hits you and you're not really sure what to do._

 _So I hope you guys understand her constantly changing emotions and ways, as this is about Amirina. Romance is second to her story, to her growth. She's finding herself and she may seem OOC at times, but that's because she doesn't know what to do. When cannon comes (2 more chapters) you'll really start to see her emotions fully instead of jumping._

 _Thank you all for the support! I can't do it without you all. I love you!_

 _Love,_

 _P_

 _ **HPuni101** \- You honestly never fail to make me smile! Thank you for your constant support. I apologize for the confusion, but glad you understood in the end! And ah yes, that wildling will become important. When? Who knows? I hope you enjoyed this chapter! All my love!_

 _ **monkeybaby** \- Love the name. Thank you for the review love and hope you enjoyed this one as well!_

 _ **CWG967** \- Thank you dear for another review! Hope you enjoyed this short one as well._

 _ **Guest** \- Thank you for the review. Despite how rude it seems, I'll still thank you. You've given me a bit of thicker skin as a writer, which is much needed due to reviews like your own. I would love to know why you are "so disgusted" by my story? And how I "ruined" it? It a my story and I'm going according to plan. I apologize I ruined it for you, but I rather like my story. So I'd love to hear how I ruined it for you. Thanks!_


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Thank you all for the support after last chapter. I really appreciate it and have a newfound sense of inspiration. Last chapter before canon. This'll be a long one. Strap in. So the editor is giving me problems and won't let me scroll down if I italicize or bold or get rid of underlines, so for the only part correctly edited is the AN at the bottom since it is near the submit button. I shall work it out soon.

And don't worry about time jumps per usual. Quite a bit for this last bit. All will be explained in due time. Be patient! Love you all!

Disclaimer: The usual and language of course

* * *

Time had passed quickly and Amirina had left Winterfell for the Last Hearth once more.

That was almost four moons ago. Now, she had carried her child for almost eight moons and she was growing restless. She was wanting more than ever for her last month to pass quickly and for her child to leave her body so she may return to herself. So she may stop living the lie her life currently was. She hated pregnancy more than ever.

Yet she was secretly excited. Excited she would have someone of her own. Someone she could truly call family when her blood was so far away. She would have a baby. She would become a mother.

While she was excited in ways, creeping terror plagued her. It always tapped on her shoulder. It whispered in her ear. She feared she would die during the birth. She feared she would lose the babe. She feared for her husband's antics once she was no longer with child. She feared for her child. She feared everything there was to be in a mother. To being responsible for a child. And the fear greatly outweighed the excitement that hid within her bosom.

Jon Umber rarely saw her anymore. She knew why. She was not daft. He found her unpleasant. Not only in nature, but he no longer found her appealing in looks. She was not stupid. She knew how he looked upon her with slight disgust. She knew he sent glances of vile nature towards her when he thought she wasn't looking. She knew he no longer cared to come warm their furs in the eves. She knew another kept his own furs warm. Another who was pale and beautiful, a true northern whore. Another who was not heavy with his child. But Amirina did not mind. She found it to be reviving in nature.

She had spent hours reading and trying her damndest to grow more in fighting despite her encumbering state. She practiced her footwork, imagining her father calling out to her if she made a single mis-step. She imagined the red sands of Dorne beneath her bare feet, forgoing her slippers and ignoring the cold stone beneath her. She would pretend a few wisps of cold air were gusts of salty sea wind. She would pretend her hands held onto the spears her father taught her how to spar with, not just her fingers curled around nothing.

She was given time to focus on writing. She would write to her father. She would write to her aunt and uncle. She would write to Robb and Sansa. She would write to Jon.

Perhaps the greatest thing to occur in the past four moons was her correspondance with her bastard cousin. Their letters were cordial in nature but she was okay with that. They were often short, as she knew his hesitance to write to her and risk Catelyn finding out and to risk the Smalljon finding out. They were not letters of passion. Amirina no longer felt such things for the boy. Or, she didn't think she did. She wasn't even sure if she had felt anything before or if maybe it was some little crush her heart wanted for. Either way, she had her best friend back and she was content with the situation.

Her time alone allowed her reflection. Reflection on who she was trying to be. She had no sense of who she was. Not truly. By marriage, she was Amirina Umber. By blood, she was Amirina Martell. But she was also carrying her mother's blood; she carried the blood of a direwolf within her. She had these names and she wasn't quite sure who to be. She could be any. She was good at playing their roles. She just didn't know which one she wanted to be. That was the hardest decision of them all.

She wanted to make her father's name proud. She grew in Dorne. She loved Dorne. The Dornish sands had scratched her flesh. The Dornish winds had whipped her face. And the Dornish sun had beat down upon her. But that dream moons past still plagued her at times. Was she a Martell?

Then she had her duties. Her duties her uncles gave to her. She was Jon Umber's wife in only name. She was bearing his child. She was his lady when they went in public. But that was it. She was no Umber.

Then there was her mother's blood. The blood that had been spilled on Dornish red sand. But it was northern blood, Stark blood. Amirina loved her Stark cousins. She loved Winterfell in small bits. But she was not raised a Stark. She was not raised in the Northern ways. She was not a Stark in name, just blood.

She was no Umber. She was no Stark. But was she truly a Martell? She wanted to believe so. She wanted to believe her father would not have raised her should she have been a product of bastardy. She was no blond knight's bastard. She looked like her mother, yes, but she looked like Oberyn Martell. He was her father.

With a breath of resolution, Amirina smiled lightly and took up a feather stylus and rolled open a piece of parchment.

It had been some time since she last wrote her father.

* * *

Searing pain ripped through Amirina's body. One she had never felt before. It was one that was said to be the most excruciating pain one could feel. And it was engulfing Amirina.

"Breathe, milady," a woman tried to soothe the Martell. "Ya 'ave done well."

Amirina scoffed and sucked in a breath. "By the old, if you say that one more time, I'll have you hung," she hissed, her words controlled by the fire emanating from her pelvic region. She had yet to even push and before then, she had time to writhe in pain while her body felt as if it was turning itself out.

The pains had started out quite far between. They were not as violent in pain and were wide apart enough that she could easily recover from the searing. It had only been a week before that she wrote her father. Her child was not supposed to arrive for another fortnight or so. Instead, the child was arriving, trying its best to claw its way out of her body. The pains were now practically a moment in time apart.

"Amirina," the midwife calmly soothed to her right, "I need ya to push, dear."

"Have I-" Rina cringed as a wave of flames burned through her torso, "have I not pushed enough?" She was speaking through her teeth at this point.

The midwife sighed and rubbed her shoulder, a comfort in the time of the waterfall of aching and stabbing. Amirina would rather a sword be driven clean through her than continue with this.

"A lit'le bit more, milady," the woman comforted, her hand still resting upon her shoulder.

Her body was tired. So very tired. Her bones ached and her muscles felt sore. She thought that if she were to stand, she would quickly collapse to the ground like a newborn foal. Washing over her body was a wave of exhaustion, a force hitting her stronger than ever as she continued with the pain. It was just like an ocean against a shore.

Clenching her eyes shut and grinding her teeth, Amirina laid her head back and resisted the urge to scream. She had yet to do so. She would not allow Jon to hear her. He was to be standing outside the door, waiting for the child to be born. She would not let him hear her pain and suffering. Amirina would not give her husband that satisfaction.

Her mind shifted to the past week. It was an easy thing to do, as her mind would rather focus on anything than the current state she was in.

Jon Umber has reverted to his normal self, perhaps a bit better than before though. His little whore had kept him busy in the bed and he had enough sense to not take Amirina to the furs, not like he would want to. He had made a few comments of how "large" she was. He would state things of how their child would have the head of a snake on the body of a wolf. She wanted to spit in his face every time. She wanted to hurt him. She truly did. But she could do nothing in her physical condition. Mentally, she could gouge his eyes out and leave him blind for the wildlings.

Another thing had occurred. Amirina found it much easier to imagine killing him. She wasn't sure if it was the child messing with her mentality. She didn't quite give a shit. She just felt such an anger and hate towards him. Towards his part in her current predicament. Towards their marriage. Towards him. Towards her life due to him. She could spear him messily and not care. But she was sure that the current pain she felt herself was influencing her wicked mind.

Amirina wasn't quite sure what had happened for him to change back. It was right after they departed from Winterfell. They had been resting from a long day's travels and he exploded upon her with a ferocity. His act had dropped and Amirina did her best to block out the memory. She just remembered the circumstances…quite clearly. It was something she never spoke of and did her best to never think of.

But again, anything was less than the pain she felt now.

"Yer nearin' the end, milady!" one of the women exclaimed. "The crown o' the head is out!"

Amirina wanted to give a sigh of relief but she could not. She had to keep pushing, and quickly. She could feel the warm liquid of life pooling between her thighs and underneath her rear. She could feel slight tearing occurring as the child began to emerge. She wanted to cry. She wanted the pain to leave her and she wanted her mother. She wanted the woman she never met to hold her against her chest and coo sweet nothings of maternal love into her ear. She wanted to ignore the overwhelming sadness that was beginning to encompass her whole being. She wanted to fall asleep and never wake up.

But she kept pushing.

"Breathe, Rina," the older woman, who had held onto her shoulder earlier, supplied, her hand tightening slightly.

She breathed and she breathed again. She took one deep breath in through her nose and exhaled out of her mouth, her teeth feeling as if they were going to shatter within moments. All the while, her torso still stayed contracted, trying its best to expel the child from it. She continued to inhale and exhale.

She heard no words of encouragement. She heard nothing of the fire crackling at the foot of the bed. She felt not the blood escaping her. She felt not the hand upon her sweat-ridden shoulder, her slip's sleeve having slipped off a while back.

She heard only her breathing. She saw nothing, for her eyes were shut tight. Her hands were crumpled around light furs. She felt nothing but the constant motions of pushing she forced her body to make.

Everything was silent for a moment. A white noise ringing in the ears of Amirina Martell.

And a cry broke out.

A small and weak cry cut the silence like a Valyrian-steel blade upon flesh.

Amirina's hazel eyes shot open and immediately she began searching for the source of the cry. She felt a surge of worry within her, the pain of childbirth completely forgotten for a moment.

"'E is small, milady," the younger woman said, a look of worry upon her pretty features.

Amirina sat up, ignoring a feeling of tearing below. She cared not for it. She wanted to see her child.

"He? A boy?" Amirina quickly asked, looking at the older woman and the younger one.

The younger woman smiled lightly and nodded her head. She lifted her arms to hand the babe over to Amirina, the child crying softly.

With shaking hands, Amirina reached over her body and grasped onto her son lightly. His body truly was small. Smaller than she thought it would be. But she remembered he was born a bit earlier than Maester Rowlin had presumed. Perhaps he would grow out of his small stature.

She pulled him to her chest, ignoring the blood on his body transferring onto her white slip. Shakily taking a breath, Amirina raised a hand to inspect her son.

"Ah ah, my dear," the older woman quickly said, "this way."

She placed Amirina's right arm a bit higher, allowing the boy's head to be higher in elevation. He was also tighter to her chest now, securing his position. Amirina nodded her head in thanks and sat in silence for a moment.

She looked down upon him and noted his red skin and the staining of blood upon it. Her mind wondered what it would turn out to be once the midwives cleaned it up. His hair appeared to be dark, but perhaps that was the matting from the red liquid. She wondered if it would be similar to Jon's or her own. His eyes were still closed and she wanted more than anything to see their color, but she was content to wait. A smile was upon her lips and suddenly everything was worth it. She didn't care anymore because of the small life held against her chest.

She reached up to touch him but a presence barged into the room.

"The child?" The slight slurring of words echoed into the room. They were coherent but there was a mix of alcohol to them. Amirina need not look to know who was now accompanying them. "Where is it?"

Within the moment, Jon Umber looked down at her and squinted his dark eyes. He was acting as if he could not see the child.

"What is it?"

"Yer wife 'as gifted ya with a son, milord," the younger woman said, her voice small and polite compared to the mighty oaf she spoke to.

The Smalljon then gave a loud boom of laughter, much like that of the stories of dragons when they beat the sky with their wings. He held onto her torso and closed his eyes.

"A son?" he asked, his words nearly indiscernable through his drunkenness and laughter.

He then pointed to the child, who seemed to pick up the changing tension within the room. "That is no son. That is a girl. No son o' mine would be the size o' a girl!" He continued to laugh.

"Milord-" the older woman tried to speak up.

"Ha! I heard that ya Martells were good for fuckin' and good for daughters. I didn't think it was true!" he began to ridicule Amirina.

She sat silent, her arms unknowingly clenching slightly. Her jaw was clenched and her teeth were once more unbreakable barriers.

He shook his head and wiped a tear from his eye. "Ah, it is a good jest, Martell," he settled down slightly.

"Milord, we must bathe the babe," the older woman said, her voice wavering slightly at the end.

The large Umber waved his hand and spoke out to the hallway outside the room. "No worries. These two shall take care of the babe."

Without warning, two women with harsh features and ugly faces entered the room.

"Jon," Amirina spoke finally, her eyes warily judging the situation, "what are you doing?"

He stood, his arms crossed against his large form, a stoic look upon his rugged features. He could be handsome if his eyes didn't show the malice within.

"I am havin' my son properly taken care of," he grunted, his laughter gone and a newfound darkness in his words.

Amirina cocked her head slightly and exchanged looks with the women who had helped her. She was beyond exhausted and she wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep for a long long time. But she could not. Her husband would not allow it. He always had to just keep her aware. Keep her guessing.

"I don't see why you think he will not be taken care of properly, Jon," Amirina looked back over at him. "I have had proper help and attention. Maester Rowlin is to arrive soon once we send word that my son has been born."

"These two shall care for those matters." Jon then stalked closer to the bed and Amirina felt herself instinctively pull her son closer. She could feel his small lips begin to tremble as a cry began to come upon him.

"Jon," Amirina said, her voice firm.

"Jon."

He continued to walk to the side of the bed she laid upon.

"Jon Umber, what in gods' names are you attempting?" She asked, forced incredulous by the situation.

"I'm takin' care of the matter," he said, his hands reaching out and swiftly grabbing for the babe.

Amirina gave a cry of surprise and shock, pulling her son closer. But Jon persisted. He was much larger and much faster at the moment. Her arms had grown weak from the short time of supporting weight. Her breath was growing slower and slower as her eyelids wished to lull closed. Her mind was beginning to cloud. She felt no want or will to move.

Her son was quickly nabbed from her tired arms. Without a second, Jon Umber turned away and nodded for the two women to follow him. They had grabbed multiple materials they would need to help Amirina pass the last part of the labor. The older woman began to stand.

"You cannot take my son, Jon," Amirina hissed, her teeth beginning to grind together. She was exhausted but the cold of loss was finally hitting her arms. "He is to stay with me."

The Smalljon turned around to face her and cocked an eyebrow. "Ya gave 'im up pretty quick, dear. I'd say ya were waitin' for me to take 'im."

A burst of energy clawed its way from her heart to the rest of her body in some way. She didn't know where it came from, but it was there. Pushing herself up more, Amirina leaned forward as far as she could. She could not stand, not even close, as her legs were feeling quite numb. Increasingly so as her vision seemed dazed more and more. But she would fight.

"Give. Him. To. Me," she ground out, a snarl painting her paling features.

Jon Umber turned back around to face the doorway, trailed by his vultures of people. "I would like to see ya force me to, Rina."

"Dammit Jon Umber!" she yelled out, her voice full of rage and burning like the anger within her limbs. It spread like the wildfyre of Aerys II Targaryen's imagination. It scorched her veins and flesh with a passion.

"You shall return my son to me!" she yelled out, a tone she had never used before finding usage for the first time in her life. Her fingers clenched the sheets below the furs and her knuckles turned white as snow against her paling tanned flesh. "He is my flesh and blood and he shall be with his mother before anyone tries to nab him from my grasp."

Jon simply smirked and turned around, ready to slam the door behind him. But he stopped and stood for a moment.

"It appears 'e was with ya. And I 'ave taken my heir."

The door slammed shut and with it, Amirina's heart shattered to the tune of wood and metal colliding.

* * *

Leaning against the neck of the stallion, Amirina took a deep breath. She shut her eyes and allowed her limbs rest for a moment. Her sore rear required some time to move around and walk, but she was not terribly in the mood for walking. She had been sparring against a tree for a solid two hours and her legs wanted to collapse as she journeyed back to the horse she had been…borrowing from the stables. Technically, she wasn't allowed to leave the keep's gates, but Amirina had her ways. Her ins and outs.

Her arms hung lifelessly on either side of the neck and she simply breathed deeply. Her eyes were lightly shut, the hazel orbs gone to the world. Her hair was down and she felt it intermingling with the dark wiry hairs of the animal. Her legs hung around the muscular flanks and she lightly kicked them in the air to keep them moving.

She loved to ride horses. None of the northern stocky ones compared to the Dornish stallions she had grown up riding. They were lithe and had braided hair upon their crests. Their tails were often braided as well and were trimmed to a certain length at all times. The horses in the north had thick coats and long hair that was wiry compared to the sleek hairs upon a Dornish stallion. She wanted to chuckle at that thought.

She was the lithe Dornish steed and her husband was the large and muscular northern draft.

The thought of the Smalljon entered her mind and it was unwelcome. She felt an anger brewing within her and she wanted it gone. She took the time to spar to rid her mind of thoughts of him. But sometimes he managed to infiltrate her mental walls like a catapult to a stone keep. And she hated it. She wanted to wring her hands around his large neck.

She had not seen her son since he was born.

That was four moons past.

No matter where she went. No matter who she talked to. No matter where she thought he was. Her son was never there. She had heard word from Jon Umber that he had named him Eddard. Eddard Umber. Similar to Eddard Stark, her uncle in Winterfell, the Warden of the North.

He claimed it was for respect towards the man, but she knew better. He knew she would react how he wanted her to. She knew she would react how he wanted her to. She had screamed at him. She had attacked him. It had been only a fortnight after having her son. Her body had been in no shape to take him on. Yet, she had foolishly done so.

She paid for it with a bruise covering her cheek.

Sighing, Amirina opened her eyes and caressed the side of the stallion's neck, rubbing gently. She wished for a life without Jon Umber. A life where she could return to Dorne and spend her times in the water gardens. A life where she would not marry. A life where she would bear no children. A life where she had power again.

Pushing up so she could sit straight up, Amirina took a deep breath. She ran a hand through her long hair, untangling the knots that had formed while allowing the wind to brush through it. With her other hand she grasped the reins of the horse.

Before she could give the steed a light kick to his flanks, her eyes caught something within the tree line. It was a silhouette. A male one. One that seemed familiar. One that had nearly killed her.

She cocked her head to the side and gave a questioning glance. The silhouette nodded towards her. Amirina looked around, finding herself alone within the clearing. Taking a deep breath, Amirina urged the horse forward.

She kept her eyes locked on the man, never allowing them to leave his shape as the horse trotted across the grass and towards the tree line.

Amirina swung her leg over and hopped off the animal. She placed the reins in front of his body and patted his neck, assuring him of her safety. The horse snorted slightly but stood still as she walked away.

Her legs cried out in protest, but she continued to walk. The grass was tall and she allowed her fingers to graze the tops of the soft blades. She smiled lightly at the feeling of the grass and the feeling of the sun upon her features. It had been one of the rare days up north when the sun showed itself and peaked out from behind the clouds. Her once sun-kissed skin was fading to a darker fair color that she despised. She missed the color the sun had once gifted her with.

"Yer different," the man said as she walked up to him. She wanted to say the same to him.

His thin face had filled out and a dark brown beard was now covering his sharp jawline. He was much taller than he had been, Amirina only reaching his shoulders now. His body no longer looked starved underneath his woven fabrics and furs. His oak eyes seemed darker, as if he had seen a lot in the near year since she had last seen him.

"I could say the same for you," she stated, crossing her arms across her torso and nodding towards his body.

"Ya 'ave 'ad yer babe?" he asked, his eyes searching over her to check they were alone.

She nodded her head and looked down to the ground. "I birthed him. I have yet to see him."

The man raised an eyebrow, his grasp tightening slightly on the spear he had by his side.

"The Smalljon took him from my arms before I could even move my slip to feed him," she seethed. Her fists clenched and unclenched quickly. "I have yet to see my own son."

"Ah see yer strange words 'aven't changed," he noted, his eyes giving a strange gleam. "Ah am sorry fer yer babe."

She waved him off and leaned back against a tall fir tree. "What is it you need? The last time we met you drew blood from my neck. I fail to even draw your name from my mind."

The man scoffed and she noticed as he relaxed slightly.

"Why would ah need anythin'?"

"Perhaps," Amirina started, "because I know of my husband's recent antics. Because you're not holding a knife to my neck and instead, you seem quite relaxed."

In a swift movement, the man whipped out a chiseled rock of a knife and held it against her neck. He stepped close to her, boxing her in against the tree. She felt the bark of the tree digging into her back and she grimaced slightly at the sudden burning across her neck.

"Are ya 'appy now?" he growled slightly.

Amirina smirked. "It seems far more familiar, if I am to speak the truth."

"Lovely, lass," he chuckled slightly. Looking around, he began to use his height to his advantage. He pressed his body against her own quite tightly and she squirmed slightly at the feeling. It reminded her of the Smalljon in far too many ways. He tilted his head down and spoke directly next to her ear.

"Are ya feelin' welcome to 'elpin' us?" he whispered.

"Is it concerning the man chained to the walls underneath the keep?" she asked, turning her head slightly. Her nose was invaded with the smell of fir trees and animals.

He chuckled, "It is."

Amirina took in a deep breath. "I shall help you and whoever else. Promise that no harm comes to my son, however. Inform me as to what you shall need me to do."

The man stepped back slightly and looked down at her with a crooked smile. He removed the makeshift knife from her neck. "Ah need ya to come 'ere as much as possible. Come when the sun is 'igh."

Amirina nodded her head. "I will do as you ask," she agreed, pulling a hand up to rub her neck. "But tell me your name. I prefer to know the man who will be occupying some of my time."

The man smirked and grasped her chin lightly. She furrowed her brows in confusion. "Ma name? Ma name is Roryk, lass."

Within moments, he quickly disappeared within the dense trees, leaving Amirina alone against a fir tree with her heart slightly racing.

* * *

It had been a fortnight since their agreed terms. Since then, Amirina had seen Roryk six times. He was smart, he didn't want to rush anything. He was waiting for further help to arrive from the Bay of Seals. Until then, he was providing Amirina as a solid sparring partner and lovely company.

"I could easily slay you where you stand," Amirina announced cockily, holding the double ended staff by her side.

Roryk scoffed and twirled his spear. "Ah would like to see ya try, lass."

"Would it harm you to stop calling me that?" she huffed, annoyance creeping into her tone. He knew her name, she didn't know why he would not address her by such.

He seemed to ponder it for a moment but then nodded his head. "Ah believe it would, lass."

Deciding to rush him out of pure spite, Amirina jumped forward to attack. She raised her staff above her head to cut down but he easily blocked and countered. Pushing her back, Roryk swung the staff low and Amirina barely caught it. Her lack of balance bit her for a moment, but she was able to recover.

She hopped back and feinted left to draw his defense, quickly succeeding and striking his right side. He grunted and Amirina smirked. She won that one.

"That was a bit quick, Roryk," she confidently jested. "Have you lost your supposed talent with a spear?"

He rolled his oak eyes and stood straight once more. "We 'ave sparred 'ow many times lass? Around ten per day? And 'ow many 'ave ya bested me in?"

Amirina leaned forward on her staff, pretending to think. "Well, this day, I have bested you four times. The last time, only twice. But the time before that I took six from you."

He smirked and walked over to her. Roryk took her staff from her and she nearly lost her balance but corrected herself in time. "Ah simply get sloppy, lass. If ah were to truly fight ya, ya would be dead in a moment."

She then raised an eyebrow and reached for her staff but he held it out of her reach. "Is that so? I would believe that to be a rather bold statement coming from the man who has lost to a woman quite a many times."

"Ah would say ah let ya win," he smirked. "Sometimes, ah let ya win because ah get a uh bit…distracted."

He was now standing rather close to her, close enough she could feel the fabrics of his trousers. He lacked any form of a tunic or shirt. He claimed it was too hot often for him to fully wear his cloths and furs. Amirina did not mind. He was a well formed man and she could often admire him when he wasn't paying attention.

She wouldn't lie when she said his companionship was…distracting. He was humorous in nature and often figured out a way to rile her up. It wasn't in an angry way, like Jon Umber produced. It was always something of good nature and she couldn't help but attach to it. He wasn't a bad man. Did she know him? Truly? Not even close. She just knew the personality he demonstrated to her. And he was willing to trust her for her help for getting his kin back. She couldn't help herself if she found him rather lovely.

"And why is that, Roryk?" she looked up to him, holding her hands behind her back now. She had to stop herself from smiling.

He dropped her staff from his hand and used it to then grasp her waist and pull her flush against him. "Yer rather distractin', lass. If we were where ah come from, ah would 'ave made ya ma wife."

Doing her best to steady her breathing, Amirina raised an eyebrow. "Would you now?"

"Aye," he said lowly, "ah would 'ave stolen ya away in the night from yer clan. Ah would 'ave expected ya to fight me. Ah would 'ave proven ya wanted me. Ah would 'ave fucked ya into the 'ours of morn. Ya would 'ave made a good wife. And a good spearwife."

Amirina could feel her cheeks starting to burn by the manner of how he spoke. She should have expected it. The free folk were supposed to not care of their speech manners. They spoke their minds and no one cared. There were no rules on how to speak to a woman with a husband. Or at least Roryk did not care.

"That's uh," she cleared her throat, her mind trying to process everything. She remembered the dropped staff and slightly shifted her foot so she could slowly bring the staff towards her. "That is a lot of rich knowledge I have now gained."

She could feel the end of the staff. All she had to do was step down on it and hope it moved high enough she could reach it without a lot of movement.

"Ah could still do it, lass," he growled slightly, his voice lower than she expected. She had to swallow hard. In no ways had the gods of old prepared her for a situation as such.

Amirina nodded in acknowledgment of his words. She needed to carry the conversation. Distract him long enough.

"There is a bit of an obstacle though," she started, capturing his full attention. She stepped her foot down upon the curved end of the staff and it swung barely high enough to graze her fingers. But that was all she needed.

She ducked down to fully grab it. In the process, Roryk let go stunned. She pulled the staff up and held it to his neck, a smirk upon her features.

"The problem is Roryk," she chuckled lightly, "I am in no need of a husband. I can take care of myself."

Giving a laugh, Amirina handed the stunned man the staff and proceeded to walk back to the horse she rode out on. She didn't care to look back.

* * *

"What is it that has you smilin'?" the Smalljon grumbled, the two sitting next to each other as a large feast occurred.

A wedding of grand proportions was taking place. Jon's cousin was to marry a pretty lass of ten and six namedays. They were wedded just a few hours past. She was a riverlands girl from a small house. She worshipped the Seven and the condition of marriage was a traditional southern wedding. Amirina thought it was a kind thing for the Greatjon to allow. It was small, however, in grandeur, as they allowed her gods but they wanted their style. So, the two stood in front of a heart tree and spoke their vows. Now, they were having a dinner feast for the newly wedded couple.

Amirina took a piece of bread and ate it before answering. Jon Umber hated it when she did it, so she often found ways to annoy him as much as possible. "I received a raven from my cousin detailing his sister's ability to shoot with a bow quite well."

The Smalljon rolled his eyes and brought his goblet to his lips beneath his wiry beard. Amirina looked over at him and wanted to roll her eyes as well, but she controlled herself quite well and sipped on her spiced mead. She had learnt how to mind her own business. It had taken time, but she had learned finally.

Suddenly, there was some cheering. Questioningly, Amirina began to look around the crowd for who was responsible for such behavior. There usually wasn't cheering until the bedding ceremony. She would never understand that part of weddings. In Dorne, there was no bedding ceremony. Most couples had already copulated by the time they were wed. When they did have a "bedding ceremony" there was no carrying of the lady and her lord. It was simply the two of them. Amirina had not even done such a rite with the Smalljon. It had been a private affair.

Amirina could hear the chanting begin and she couldn't help but feel a bad feeling grow in her gut. She watched as her husband stood and walked down to the floor from the raised flooring their seats were upon. She watched as her husband hungrily stared at the scared looking woman. She watched as a groups of men began tearing at her clothes and bringing her to a hallway in the air.

She sat there and drank her ale, not participating as the women began to take the new husband down the same path.

She wouldn't see her husband the rest of the eve.

* * *

Amirina's heart was racing. Tonight was the night. Tonight was the night she would help Roryk retrieve his tortured kin from the keep's prison. It had taken two moons of planning and help on Amirina's part, but she felt it had been worth it. She had been increasingly frustrated and angry with her husband and she felt it was time to ruin his pride for some time. She wanted to strike him where it mattered.

She had gotten to know a few free folk. They were not all rapists and murderers as people loved to fantasize about. They were good people struggling in the harsh colds beyond the Wall. She liked them and didn't want a member of their kin to die because her husband was blind.

Amirina took careful and quick steps to rush to a gate within the walls. She knew it was closest to the dungeons and it was the easiest to access. Few guards rarely posted there and if they did, they were distracted. So Amirina gave Roryk directions on how to safely get to the gate. That was their last meeting only two eves past. She hoped everyone was there and knew of the dire circumstances of the situation.

Amirina looked outside the grated gates quickly and smiled when she saw Roryk standing opposite her.

"Shall ah surrender, lass?" he jested, a crooked smile upon his features.

Amirina shook her head with a quiet laugh and began to crank the wheel that brought up the gate. She knew it would be loud if she pulled it up for a long time, so the wildlings would have to crawl underneath the gate.

"Be swift. Kill as little people as you can. Your kin is within the second cell to your left in front of you once you have entered the dungeons."

Roryk nodded and turned to his group. The group consisted of around ten others. It was comparably small to most groups. However, it was large enough group for extra backup and to ensure there were a few lookouts.

Amirina looked at them all for a moment and examined them. There were three women and seven men. All were varying in height and stature. The men mostly had wiry beards and dark hair. The women had beaded hair that seemed odd to Amirina, but she guessed it suited them. They were not pleasing to the eye in her opinion, but she was no wildling man. She could not tell if they were lovely in their culture.

Roryk then crawled underneath the gate, his kin following. He easily popped up after doing such and wiped his front off slightly. Amirina turned her eyes towards the others and ensured that they were able to crawl safely underneath the grated gate. She would stay there until they were done so she could provide a swift exit for them should they need one.

Roryk turned towards her and walked to her. It was only a matter of steps but he seemed rather menacing when doing so. She gave him a questioning glance in the dark.

"You must act swiftly, Roryk," she hissed quietly, not wanting anyone to hear.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Ah know, lass," the wildling brushed off. He quickly grabbed the small of her waist and pulled her flush against him. Without a moment's hesitation, Amirina found herself with another's lips upon her own. It didn't last very long, only a second. But Amirina had felt the slight pressure behind it, the want. The need. It hadn't been like when her husband kissed her (which hadn't occurred in moons). There was no malice found behind it.

"Ah've been waitin' to do tha'," he smirked, his beard having been a slight tickle to her skin.

Amirina needed a moment to compose herself. She cleared her throat and tried to will the burning of her cheeks away. "Uh, yes, well," she stuttered, trying desperately to regain her mental footing, "you must, uh, you must be going. I uh, I shall see, um uh, I shall see you off when you are safe with your kin."

Roryk chuckled and let go of her waist, nodding for the group to take certain positions and some to follow him. Two eves past she had also informed Roryk of the location of the dungeons in reference to the gate they entered from. It was a straight shot. Not much occurred in that part of the keep, so it was less riskier than say, Winterfell.

She watched as the group quickly and quietly dispersed.

That was when she felt her breath finally leave her, as if she had started holding it after Roryk placed his lips upon her own. She felt her chest want to collapse within itself. Her cheeks burned and she felt they would begin to glow like hot metal being molded by a blacksmith. She had to place her free hand upon her chest, simply to ensure her heart continued to beat. She had never been in the situation of a man kissing her in such a way. In a way that she actually…enjoyed. No man that she could find herself rather fancying had ever kissed her before. It was…odd. She wanted to retry it, see if she truly did like it. See if she didn't mind the wildling man stealing a simple kiss.

She couldn't help but smile at the direction the group had gone. She knew she was a married woman. But her husband had his doves within his nest. What was the harm in her having a hawk? It was promoted in Dorne. Her father had his fair share of paramours. Could she have one of her own? Her father had hurt her mother by having such, but she had no marriage even similar to the one they had. Surely, she could…bend a few rules in favor of her Dornish roots?

That was a fantasy, however. Fantasies rarely come to bloom.

"Ah, the lady o' the 'ouse," a sniggering voice slithered behind her.

Amirina spun around quickly and gave a slight gasp. Not one of recognition but one of surprise.

"Well, milady," he mocked, "what 'as ya out 'ere aaaaaall alone? Hmm?"

Amirina readjusted her facial presence and attempted to make herself seem larger. One could say she was sticking her nose up, but she truly wasn't. That was normally something of condescendance. This was empowering her.

"The future lady of House Umber needs not to answer to a simple man's questions," she brushed him off. She had gotten quite talented at the art. She needed to to deal with Jon. Otherwise, nothing would have gotten done and she would still be a practical prisoner.

"Ah, ah, ah," the man childishly scolded. "Yer wrong there. A man always questions the woman. So answer me, Lady Umber, what are ya doin'?"

He stepped closer. Too close.

"Step away from me now, or I shall alert my husband of your actions and cry out into the night you committing harm against me."

The man gave a quiet cackle and quickly grabbed her bicep. His fingers dig harshly into her skin despite having a dress on. "I can make ya scream into the night, milady."

Amirina yanked her arm back but found no loosening of his grip. In fact, it truly only grew tighter.

"Release my arm at this moment," she growled through her ground teeth.

She could not scream. No, not yet. Roryk had yet to return.

"I think ya want me to continue," he hissed, his grip tightening more than Amirina thought it could. "Yer 'usband doesn't need to know."

"Get your hand off of me," Amirina growled, mentally wishing she had a dagger on her person's. She was not skilled with daggers but she was fairly certain she didn't need to be as such if she was just going to stab the man anywhere that was exposed.

The man chuckled, much like that of the baying of a sheep. It shook her to her spine.

"I don't think so-"

Without warning, Amirina felt warm liquid spraying onto her face.

Her eyes did not shut in enough time to spare her the image of a knife sticking out of the dark beady eye of the man.

She gave a gasp and felt the once clawing hand slowly lose grip upon her forearm. The fingers fell limp and collapsed with the rest of the man, crumpling like a flag in wind.

Amirina felt a welling of a scream begin to force its way from her gut to her throat. But despite its immense pressure, there seemed to be a dam blocking its path within her neck. She couldn't comprehend that, however, and began to open her mouth as if to scream. Instead, she looked like a bass out of a river.

A hand quickly grabbed her bicep and turned her around.

"Rina," a male voice shook her to the core. But her mind did not allow her to recognize it. "Rina. Ah 'ave to leave. The guards. Ah 'ave to leave."

She only nodded. She could not understand. Amirina was trapped, trapped within her mind as she reeled from seeing the man's eye being sunken with a dagger. The feel of the warm blood upon her flesh. A blood that was not her own. The life crumpling from his dark eyes just as quickly as his body. A gasp of air escaping him as his lungs ceased to work. Amirina could not forget it.

She felt a warmth upon her forehead before some shouting. A loud creaking sounded out and then there was a moment of silence. Silence in which Amirina fell to her knees, feeling having left her lower limbs. A numbness began to overtake her. She had read stories. Heard of her father speaking in which a man would be killed. Not once had she seen a man be murdered. Not once had she felt the blood of another. Not once had life been taken in front of her. Her hands trembled and she wanted to crawl within her flesh and never return. She was never prepared to see it happen. Only prepared to know of it. To know how to do it. Not how to actually bring oneself to do it.

The sound of clanging, heavy footsteps echoed around her. Loud and rambunctious voices surrounded her. Men began to yell and accuse. But the words were nothing in her ears. She was numb. She would be for a moment or two.

She felt men hoist her up by the arms and cold chains being shackled to her wrists. But the cold was nothing. Nothing compared to the warmth of a man's blood upon her skin.

In her trance, Amirina had missed some words from the man who potentially saved her life. He promised he would return for her. He promised to return her son from her husband. He promised many a things in quite a short amount of time.

But he would not fulfill any. She would not be there when he returned. She would be facing judgement. A judgement for a crime she did not commit.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** AHHHH! The longest chapter to date! And we will finally begin a modified canon! Yay! Oh man y'all, I'm so happy. We broke 100K before 20 chapters and we have finished the "prologue".  
_

 _Y'all know I had to add some OC/OC action, it adds to the drama later. And let's be honest, OC/main character gets boring sometimes. I like to spice things up. Roryk will return. And who knows what will happen?_

 _Anyone notice that Edward Umber is actually a character in the series? Haha twisted him to become a bit more important!_

 _I apologize for the rushed feeling (?) to some relationships and developments. These things will be explored more deeply as time passes. We can never know everything at once, now can we?_

 _I hope all characters were up to par and I hope you all understand Rina's reaction to seeing a man being killed right in front of her? I don't think anyone, no matter how much training you have, is ever able to comprehend seeing someone die. I'm excited for the future! I love you all and thank you for the constant support!_

 _Love,_

 _P_

 _ **HPuni101** \- Thank you for the review once again love! Glad you enjoyed it. And yes, I do as well. But I would assume that Catelyn would proclaim Robb as older simply to protect his "birth-right" should Jon have ever been legitimized. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!_

 _ **monkeybaby** \- Haha, thank you! I've always loved peppermints! And thank you! Hope you enjoyed this one as well!_

 _ **SaraiR** \- Well, love, that is by far one of the best reviews I've had in a while, I truly appreciate it. I hope you continue to love this story and read it! Thank you!_

 _ **Guest** \- Hmm, I'm not sure if this constitutes as saving? Haha, don't worry dear. This chapter was rough for her, but things always look brighter after the storm, don't ya think?_


	19. Chapter 19

_**A/N:** Oh my goodness. The moment is here. Canon is here. Remember it will be modified a bit, as it would never be the same with a different character in the mix. I'm sorry for the wait! More info down below._

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire, blah blah blah. Also, Amirina will see a huge shift in character dynamic, don't fret, all will be explained in due time._**

* * *

Ned sighed deeply and placed his head in his hands. He could feel a raging begin to pound within his mind.

"Ned?" the worried voice of Catelyn Stark called out.

The Warden of the North looked up to see his Tully wife entering from the hallway, a sigh escaping his lips.

"I'm here Cat," he nearly grumbled out, his voice heavy, something akin to the weights pulling his eyes dangerously close to shut. He had failed to find any solace in sleep.

Catelyn Stark walked into the solar, a tired look upon her aging features. Within the past years, Cat has definitely begun to show her age. She was still as beautiful as the day Edward Stark married her, but the years had begun to wear down at her. Especially recently.

Eddard's childhood friend was to visit: the King of The Nine Kingdoms. And the Hand of the King, Ned's friend and Cat's brother-by-law, Jon Arryn, was dead.

Things had been strained within Winterfell's walls as of late.

Catelyn walked in and Ned gave her a small yet forced smile, the crinkles near his eyes failing to form. His teeth hid behind his thin lips. Stress crevices dug in between his brows and stretched across his forehead. His thin beard failed to hid his growing frown lines that dropped from the sides of his nostrils to the corners of his lips. He had aged as well.

"The sun has not yet risen," she noted, walking towards the wooden desk Ned sat at.

He nodded, "I know, Cat."

She turned around the corner and stood next to her chair, placing her soft hands upon his shoulders. "What is it that pulls you from our bed this early?"

He placed a hand upon her own, showcasing a sign of affection the two normally saved for private interactions. "It is my sister's daughter," his voice lowered slightly, hoping no one would hear his upcoming words.

"Amirina?" Catelyn questioned, her voice surprised. She had not received a raven from her niece in some time. She attributed it to her having become a mother.

Ned breathed in deeply and squeezed his wife's hand tightly. "She has killed a man."

He heard Catelyn suck in a sharp hiss of air. "Amirina? Killed a man?" her words were quick and harsh.

"A guard," he simply commented, a storm of thoughts within his mind. "She is to return here."

Catelyn stepped away from her husband quickly. "She killed an Umber guard and you believe it acceptable to allow her to return?"

Eddard raised an eyebrow at his wife. "She is our niece. She requires it."

The Tully placed her hands on the desk. "She may be our niece, but she killed a man, Ned. Any other man or woman and they would be beheaded for the actions. We cannot simply give her safety because she is your sister's daughter.

"The king is to come, Eddard. A woman who killed a guard cannot be with us then," she continued.

"We will be fine, Catelyn," he insisted, folding up the letter he had received from the husband of Amirina Martell. "The Smalljon sent the raven requesting she receive sanctuary. He believed it to be in her best interests for her to reside here for some time."

The matriarch of the Stark house pinched the bridge of her nose, yet she proceeded to sigh in defeat. "She best not create a stir, Ned. I love that girl, but she has gotten herself into something we cannot simply protect her from. It will come back to reap."

And with that, Ned Stark was left alone once more.

* * *

She could still feel the sting upon her cheek. The red hot sting that had matched the red upon her solemn features for some time. He had hit her more times than she could count. More times than she cared to count. After the fifth time, she lost sense for some time. She began to feel numb and had fallen used to the pain, an expressionless face being her only sign of pain.

It was her fault.

After the men had come with chains and dragged her away, she had felt numb for quite some time. It took her a few days to come to terms with a man having died right in front of her. It felt like years before the blood had finally scrubbed off of her skin. And still the images were burned into her eyes, a looping imagining of his death even if she closed her eyes.

She had been placed in the prisons, taking the very place of the man she had helped indirectly. Roryk had not returned, or perhaps he had, she would have gone clueless no matter what. Her husband did not come until the second day. He took her out of the cell only to hit her once, then ask in a rage her reasoning, then hit her once more. The guard stood silent as the Smalljon did so.

She couldn't answer until the fourth day. By then, her husband had visited only one other time and repeated his technique. The third time she could answer. She did answer. She spoke of how the guard was going to defile her. She spoke of how she wanted fresh air. She spoke of how she would not let that man touch her as her husband would.

She had found her strength after that. She threatened the Smalljon with what intel she had on him. She threatened to write her uncle of his crimes. She wanted to go back to Winterfell. She gave up something so she may return to Winterfell.

One may think it selfish. But it was either that or potentially being beheaded.

So she gave up her son to be raised by the Smalljon.

She left the next day and, after nearly a fortnight, was now nearing Winterfell. She was wanting for her home in Sunspear. But Winterfell was all she could have for now. Dorne was far from her son. But Winterfell? Winterfell she had a chance to get him back at some point.

Amirina finally gained sense and perception after some time stuck in limbo. It was like a lantern being lit in the dark cave of her mind. Her oak eyes scanned the terrain surrounding her and a smile lit her once grim features. In the distance sat the keep of Winterfell, its dark towering walls striking against the bare landscape.

With a kick to her stallion's stifles, Amirina suddenly broke through the party that accompanied her. She gave a quick "I shall see you there" and began to relish in the wind that whipped her face. She breathed in deeply as her horse galloped across the dirt road that marked the way to Winterfell's main gate. Rina could feel flecks of dirt pushing up into the air, but she cared not. She cared only for the sense of freedom she felt at the moment. It was something she had gone without for some time.

They had been close to Winterfell, perhaps a fifteen minute trot on horseback. With a gallop, Amirina reached the walls in half that time.

She heard shouts upon the wall and from within. Amirina donned a large and toothy grin, something she had failed to use unless she was with Roryk. The muscles within her cheeks began to hurt, but she paid the pain no mind. She focused only on the family that stood before her now.

Quickly and softly jerking on the horse's reigns, Amirina commanded for the animal to stop. As it began to do so, she slid off of the saddle and ran from the steed. She ran into the open arms of Arya, Sansa, Bran and Rickon. She collapsed upon her knees and wanted only to cry as she heard the laughter and happiness of her cousins emanate into the air surrounding her.

Amirina grabbed each of her young cousins and placed a kiss upon each of their cheeks, tears threatening to bubble. She missed this kind of vigor in the Last Hearth. She missed the bit of warmth the sun blessed her with. She missed not having to worry about walking barefoot in the keep's halls. She missed affection. She missed family. And suddenly, it was all there in front of her for the taking.

"Rina!" the younger Starks all clamored for her attention.

She gave a laugh and attempted to settle them down.

"Now, now," she chuckled, taking in the appearances of everyone surrounding her, "allow me a glimpse at least of my cousins."

Sansa was much older, it seemed. She had grown much taller, donning a pale blue dress worthy of her growing body, and Amirina couldn't believe it. Her eyes seemed to be a piercing blue and her hair appeared as red as ever. Her face was sharp but she was growing to be a beautiful girl. She was looking more and more like Catelyn Stark each year, and Amirina worried she had adopted the same attitudes as her mother.

"How old are you now, Sansa?" Amirina asked curiously, as ages had left her mind for some time. She couldn't even remember if she had celebrated her ten-and-eighth nameday.

Sansa smiled widely. "Ten and three now, Rina. My nameday was not too long after we received word of your son's birth."

The words cut Amirina like a knife upon flesh, but she pushed the hurt down for the moment. "You look more and more beautiful everyday, dear Sansa," she genuinely complimented, rubbing a hand on her cousin's bicep for a moment.

She then turned to Arya and couldn't believe her eyes. "My guess is that you are now...ten and one namedays?" she joked around, knowing the gap between the two girls was around two years.

Arya puffed out her chest and nodded her head quickly. She donned not a fitted dress but a larger one that didn't show her developing body and only a pair of trousers underneath. Rina couldn't help but be proud that the girl took her own path. Her features were beginning to sharpen, much like Sansa's; however, a bit of baby fat still clung to her cheeks. Her eyes still resembled Ned's Stark brown. She was the epitome of Stark blood.

Rina smiled and then turned to Bran and Rickon. "And how old are the two of you?"

Bran answered for the both of them, a proud tone in his voice, "Ten and six, Rina."

Raising her eyebrows, Amirina couldn't help but find herself in disbelief at their ages. The boys looked more or less the same. Bran had a bit more hair and was a little taller. Rickon's hair seemed curlier but that was about it. Both were still children. They all were.

Except for two.

She ruffled the boys' heads of hair and stood from her spot. Amirina could feel Sansa's towering presence, as the younger Stark now stood a almost half a head taller than herself. She felt surprise hit her quite forcefully, but she shook it down.

Because in front of her were two boys she had missed the most: Robb Stark and Jon Snow.

Without much warning, Amirina threw one arm around each of them, pulling them in for a large hug. The boys were startled, Jon more so due to his lack of ability to display much public affection. Tears began to burn at her eyes as she felt the two pull her in for a hug as well, reciprocating the action she initiated.

She had not been held as such in some time.

"Robb Stark," she said while pulling away, "and Jon Snow."

A smile lit up her features at the appearances of the boys. Both had grown, Jon more so. The bastard was taller than Robb by a bit. His dark hair seemed to be a bit messier curl-wise than Robb's auburn locks. Jon's stormy grey pupils were a contrast to Robb's Tully blue. They were both sporting the growths of beards, and Amirina had to admit that the facial hair appeared nice and complimentary to their features.

"You have both grown so much," she reminisced slightly, placing her hands on a side of their faces each. "You are both ten and six as of now, am I correct?"

Robb smiled and nodded, "Ya would be right, Rina. I am to be ten and seven in a few moons. Jon follows me by a moon or so."

Shaking her head with a smile, Amirina pulled away from them and placed her hands upon her hips. "Well, I'm ecstatic to see the men you are both becoming. We must all spend the day together, I have missed quite a bit and would prefer to receive the information as to what I did miss."

The boys nodded and Jon appeared as if he were going to say something but stayed quiet. He then began to follow behind Robb as the two corralled all the Stark children so they may figure out a way to spend the rest of sunlight.

Amirina shook it off and made eye contact with her aunt and uncle. The stern look in Cat's eyes and the bulging of the bone in her jaw indicated she was less than pleased, something Amirina had never received from her Aunt Catelyn. Ned held a look of sadness within his depths and Amirina knew. She would need to meet with them.

She would need to clear her name.

* * *

Jon sat beside Robb and Theon, the two boys joking around.

"Ros told me she'd run away with me, ya know?" Theon chuckled, a smirk on his thin lips.

Robb couldn't help but bark in laughter at the sentence. "She'd rather go blind than spend the rest o' her life with ya, Greyjoy."

Jon couldn't help but chuckle at that, agreeing with his half-brother. Sometimes he wished for a friend like that. Someone he could talk to and joke around with. That someone used to be Robb. Then it became Amirina. Then it became no one. Jon was slowly becoming alienated from the Starks, and he knew a time would come where if he could leave, he would. He just didn't know when he would have the opportunity.

He looked out in front of them, his eyes glueing onto the interactions between Amirina and the youngest Stark children. Sansa was with the septa, but Rina had snuck Arya out, claiming the youngest girl had important lessons to learn. Jon had heard snippets of the conversation and giggles between Rina and the children.

It seemed strange. He watched as she actually smiled and laughed and jested with the children, something she did only slightly when she visited many moons ago. It was like she was a different person. He didn't have much to go off of, of course, but he recognized it. He recognized the change when she was away from her husband. He recognized the sadness in her eyes when he passed her in the morn on her way to break her fast…alone. She tried to hide it, but Jon was an expert in hiding it. It was like a liar trying to lie to another liar. He could see the truth.

"She's grown easier on the eyes," Theon said, almost appreciative in words.

Robb elbowed his best friend, giving a grunt in response.

Jon looked at Amirina and could admit she had grown more beautiful. Her hair had grown a bit darker, nearing the dark brown locks of Oberyn Martell. He attributed it to her time in the darker north near the Last Hearth, where the sun was scarce behind clouds. Her skin was still tan in nature but it had paled slightly, almost like it was fairing out. Her body had seemingly…filled out more (informatively speaking) but Jon sensed that that was due to her giving birth to a babe. Earlier that day, Jon had also noticed freckles upon the slightly hooked bridge of her nose and upon the centers of her cheeks. Her face was nearly the same, perhaps a bit thinner, making her oak eyes pop. Her hair was no longer tied into a braid, but flowing in thick waves down her back and was cut short at the small of her back.

Jon could admit, his cousin was beautiful. He was not blind to beauty. He even knew Sansa was growing to be beautiful. It was simply fact, nothing more.

As he stared at her in thought, she turned towards him and beamed him a bright smile. He couldn't help but smile back, not as bright nor beaming, but he smiled nonetheless.

"Admirin' yer cousin, are ya, Snow?" Theon quipped, knowing exactly how to grind the gears within Jon's mind.

He sucked in a breath and turned his head towards Theon. "I'm seein' how she's changed."

Robb rolled his eyes and elbowed Theon once more. "She's our cousin, Theon. Jon wouldn't look at her like you do." His words were sharp and pronounced, something he had grown good at in the past few moons. When he was relaxed, his words slipped into their natural Northern state. But when serious, his words were as pronounced as a royal. It was something all male heirs learned how to do. Not everyone could understand accents correctly and it simply made it easier to communicate with people not from the North.

Jon gave an appreciative nod to Robb before looking back over at Amirina. He'd never look at his own blood like that. He could attest to her beauty, but that was it.

Speaking of the Martell cousin, the woman skipped over with Arya, Bran and Rickon. The youngest boy was on her back, grasping onto her like a bear cub to its mother. Bran and Arya held onto her hand, the duo laughing jovially as they skipped. Jon had not seen the children have such fun since they found the direwolf pups. Speaking of which, Jon knew Amirina had yet to learn about them. Before they had come out to the fields in the forest, Amirina had had a discussion with Lady Catelyn and Ned that went on for some time. Then she came out and immediately dragged them all to follow her.

Now they were in one of the many clearings in the forests near Winterfell.

"I," she started, trying not to laugh, "I have a riddle for you boys. Your siblings could not get enough, so I must ask you it!"

She sat upon the grass in front of them. Rickon moved so that he sat in her lap. Bran moved to sit in front of Robb, as the younger boy wanted to be just like Robb, something Jon could relate to. And Arya sat by Jon, causing him to give a small smile. Arya had taken to him, and he could not complain in actuality.

Jon watched intently as Amirina allowed herself to breathe before giving the riddle.

"How can a man go eight days without sleep?" she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

Jon knew the answer. She had asked him the same riddle years ago on Robb's nameday. He couldn't remember which one, but he knew the answer, and he couldn't help but smirk.

"He sleeps at night," Arya stated, her mind having done multiple turns to arrive at the answer.

Amirina nodded her head with a chuckle, seeing the look of disbelief on Robb's and Theon's faces. "You've allowed a child to beat you boys. Perhaps another to soothe your prides?"

Jon could feel a small bout of laughter bubbling within his somewhat tight chest. He wasn't quite sure as to when it began to constrict, but he knew it wasn't there earlier.

"Hmm…" she thought aloud, tapping her chin with her finger. "How about this? I'm teary-eyed, yet never cry. Silver-tounged, but never lie. Double-winged, yet I never fly. Air-cooled, but never dry. What am I?"

Jon would admit his hesitation to answer automatically. He had an inkling of what it could be. Double-winged? Fish had double fins. Fish also had glossy eyes when one caught them. And if one looked into a certain breed of fish's mouth, one could sometimes find a grey or silver tongue. By old and new, he knew the answer but he hesitated to say it.

"A fish?" Robb guessed next to him, earning a wide smile from Amirina.

"Yes!" she exclaimed excitedly.

Jon gave a small huff, slightly annoyed that his half brother got the credit. But Jon was no longer a child. He was a man. He could get over something as trivial as this.

"What's yer son's name?" Theon randomly asked. Jon shot a look towards the Greyjoy ward, but was curious as well. All the children had learned was that she had given birth to a boy. Lady Cat would not say anything more.

A solemn look crawled onto Amirina's once smiling features. Jon could feel the instant change in the air around them and he swallowed hard. He had not seen Rina in such a mood since she found out she was to be married to a man.

"Eddard."

Robb smiled at it and so did Theon, but Jon knew better. The way she said it was emotionless, as if she was trying to distance herself from the name and from the memories. None of the Starks knew why she had come alone, or how long she would stay. All they knew was that their cousin who used to spend so much time with them and was suddenly whisked away for nearly a year, was back. They paid no mind to her strange happiness and laughter at nearly everything. They paid no mind to her quietness when her son was mentioned. They continued to ask. But Jon stayed quiet.

"How old is he?" Arya pipped up, curiosity prevalent in her voice.

"He will be six moons soon," she said softly, her eyes empty as she looked at Arya.

Jon wished he could comfort his cousin. He recognized her sadness. He wasn't sure why she was sad, but he wished to simply help.

"What's he look like?" Bran asked, smiling wide.

Amirina opened her mouth and paused. She closed her mouth and Jon could see her hesitate. He wondered as to why she would.

"He looks like me," she said after a moment, seemingly trying to convince herself of it.

Jon would speak to her afterwards about it. The letters they had written to one another were secret for Jon's sake and were often brief. They failed to truly learn what was happening with the other. Jon would use the night to learn what happened. He would also use the night to introduce Amirina to Ghost, his albino direwolf. She would find comfort in the growing pup.

Jon watched Amirina grow more and more grave as the questions continued. He watched as her once lively oak eyes drew dreary and plain like dead bark. And he watched as an anger began to build up as each moment passed.

Something had happened, and Jon Snow made it his mission to find out before the day was done.

* * *

Amirina sat upon the dark furs of her bed. The room surrounding her was the one she had occupied during her extended stay nearly a year past. The fur on the stone floors was the same marble color, white furs intermixing with grey and black ones. The fire was lit in the fireplace, but it was growing dim. She would need to tend to it soon if she didn't wish to reignite it later. Despite the weather being warmer than usual for the last bit of "summer", the inside of Winterfell still felt cold. The desk she used to write letters to her father on sat to her right, underneath the window that overlooked the courtyard of Winterfell. The wardrobe stood to the right of the entrance of the bathing room, a divider standing up near it.

It had not changed.

She fell back onto the pillows and sighed in relief. She no longer feared for her husband. Not at the moment. Not for her safety. She dared not think of her son's safety. Not at the moment.

Amirina gently closed her eyes and breathed the scent of the room in. The burning wood in the fireplace flirted through and tickled the hairs within her nose. The smell of Winterfell consumed her. It was a strange mix of damp but also warm. Like freshly rained upon fir tree wood. That mixed with the burning wood calmed her senses and her mind. It was far more pleasant than the mildew Amirina could constantly smell in her and Jon's room at the Last Hearth. But he wouldn't know, he was always in his other room.

Before her mind could ponder other thoughts, a knocking sounded from the other side of her door.

"Whoever it is, you may enter," she called out, far too comfortable to get up and open the wooden door. It wasn't locked anyways.

She heard the door open and shut silently, thankful for whoever it was that entered.

"I could have very well been an assassin, Rina," the voice of Jon Snow rang out in her room.

A smile stretched across her lips and she immediately bolted up from her furs, her oak eyes wide with happiness.

But before she could say anything, her eyes latched onto a white…wolf(?) in Jon's arms. A pup to be exact. But larger than just a pup.

"What, by old and new-"

"It's a direwolf," Jon said, looking down at the albino animal and scratching behind it's ear a little. "His name is Ghost."

She raised an eyebrow and reached for the animal, wanting to suddenly hold it throughout the night. "I thought direwolves only lived beyond the Wall?"

Jon shrugged and sat Ghost down upon the bed, the animal hesitant to reach out towards her. "That's what we thought. Father said they went extinct south of the wall. Not one had been seen in two hundred years. We found one on the way back from the execution of a Night's Watch deserter. Died with a stag's antler in her throat. There were five pups. Then there was Ghost: albino and a runt."

Amirina's eyes widened slightly and looked over at the pup, the animal's ears bent back slightly. She motioned for Jon to sit down on the edge of her bed, hoping it would ease the animal's tensions. He did so and the Martell could see the dog visibly relax but only slightly.

"Ned allowed you to keep them?" she inquired, confused as to why the man would let his children in the company of a direwolf.

Jon nodded, urging Ghost on to sniff Amirina. "Only thanks to me," he chuckled lightly, "claimed it was an omen. Direwolves are the Stark sigil. One for each of his children, even a bastard."

Amirina rolled her eyes at the last part but continued to try and get the pup to come to her. "Ghost," she cooed.

"The others will probably let ya meet the rest soon. The king and queen are to arrive soon. Lady Catelyn said we must keep them hidden until the royal family leaves," Jon spoke softly, annoyance evident with each word.

The duo sat in silence for a moment, waiting for Ghost to approach Amirina. And soon, he did.

The white pup sniffed her steady hands and proceeded to give her fingers a lick. Amirina had to stop herself from giggling as she didn't want to scare the creature away. In moments, Ghost had curled up into a ball in her lap, her having switched to crossing her legs so she could create a cradle-like shape. She smiled gently and began to scratch at the back of his ears.

"He is amazing, Jon," she admired quietly, watching intently as the direwolf pup began to drift off.

The bastard of House Stark nodded and gave a smile in response to the image in front of him. Amirina needed something like this, he could see it in the relaxation prominent in her posture.

It pained him to ask what he was going to.

"Why're ya here, Rina?" he asked immediately.

The smile dropped from her features almost immediately. Her fingers hesitated in their ministrations, but they picked up after a moment.

"You're the only one who ever notices, Jon Snow," she bear whispered.

He sat quietly, knowing he had gotten her to open up, even if slightly.

"I hate it there," Amirina began, "I hate it with every part of my being. I hate the smell, the weather, the cold of the keep. I hate my husband. I hate my life there.

"Eddard was not my choice of name. The Smalljon chose it. He chose it to spite me, and spite me he did. That man…" she needed to take a breath, anger causing her body to shake like a candle flame. "He placed the charming mask upon his damned face and I believed it to be true. He has hurt me, Jon Snow. He has laid his hand upon me far too many times. He has taken me as a fool and succeeded. He took my son away from my breast before the babe could even open his eyes. I have not seen mine own son in near six moons."

Jon watched as her face melted into sorrow. He sat quietly, unmoving. Yet his heart ached for his cousin, wanting him to reach over and let her know she still had family.

"Some time past, perhaps when I first arrived there, the Smalljon had captured a wildling, one of the freefolk from beyond the Wall." Jon knew about them from stories and rumors of them roaming free in the forests of the North.

"I knew not of what he did to them, I had only heard rumors. On our way here, while I still carried my son, at one point, I met one. He spared my life for an odd reason and I thought i would never lay my eyes upon him again.

"But I did. I met him once more. He had been watching me from the forestry. His kin was the man taken by the Umber son moons past. A deal was struck and for weeks, I was able to get back into sparring. He allowed me to fight him, giving myself the necessary headspace to keep myself calm and not mad. In exchange, I would help he and his fellow wildlings to get into the keep and get his kin back."

"What was his name?" Jon didn't mean to interrupt, but he was curious.

Amirina gave a small smile and Jon smirked at the tone of her voice as she answered. "Roryk."

Jon leaned back in his seated position, his hands supporting him. "Do my eyes deceive me, or does Amirina fancy a man? A true Martell now, aren't ya?"

He watched as his cousin's cheeks began to burn brightly. Jon knew he hit the nail upon the head.

She opened her mouth and closed it multiple times, making herself look like a gaping fish.

"I-" she tried to begin. "I do not fancy him."

Jon threw his head back in laughter. With his cousin, he was able to laugh and jest. Many would not believe it true, as the most emotion he ever showed was with his siblings. Even then, however, it wasn't as much as he showed with Amirina: his best friend. And he was confident in his title for her, as she was the only one he trusted enough for it.

"I simply aided him to spite the Smalljon," she tried to defend.

Jon Snow shook his head with a chuckle, knowing his cousin was doing her best to deny something that was obviously there.

"It's alright, Rina. You've got Martell blood in ya."

He watched as she rolled her eyes and laid back upon her bed, taking Ghost with her as she fell back. Giving the two a smile, he began to stand up.

"Well, I assume you're here then to escape your hellish marriage for a spell," Jon concluded, incredibly off the mark and blissfully ignorant to the situation. "I'm just glad I have my cousin back."

Amirina looked over at him and smiled, one of the rare ones that graced her lips recently. "Thank you, Jon. This is why you're my favorite of you Starks."

The two stood silent for a moment, a slight bit of tension hanging in the air due to the comment. Jon knew what she meant. She knew what she meant. But there was still an unspoken sadness in Jon Snow's heart, because despite the Stark blood flowing through him, he would only ever be a bastard.

So he bid her good night, allowing the Martell woman to hold onto Ghost for the night, as the two had connected in a way almost similar to Jon and the pup. Not the exact same, but the direwolf has taken quite the liking to her and had fallen asleep against her side; Jon lacked the heart to pull his companion away.

Soon enough however, the pup would be pulled away, along with Jon Snow. Neither knew it yet.

* * *

Jon stood facing his seated brother, Theon leaning against a wooden support. The boys were getting their faces clean-shaven and their hair cut, a way of Catelyn Stark saying they looked like wolves themselves and needed domesticating. But Jon knew not of the reason.

"Why's your mother so dead set on us gettin' pretty for the king?" he asked, watching as Robb's cheek was being shaven with a razor blade.

Jon turned as Theon spoke, "It's for the queen, I bet. I hear she's a sleek bit o' mink."

"I hear the prince is a right royal prick," Robb added, his arms crossed against his chest.

"Think o' all the southern girls he gets to stab with 'is right royal prick," the Greyjoy chuckled.

Jon resisted rolling his eyes, thinking the comment from the ward was unnecessary, as was all comments from Theon Greyjoy.

Tommy slapped the shoulders of Robb and Jon looked back over at his now standing brother. The auburn haired heir walked to Jon and patted him on the back. "Go on Tommy, sheer him good. He's never met a girl he likes better than his own hair."

Taking in a deep breath and desperately trying to ignore the snide comment, Jon walked over and sat where Robb once did. He felt Tommy begin to place his hands within his curls and closed his eyes in annoyance at the now light laughter between Robb Stark and Theon Greyjoy. It seemed Jon would always end up being the end of a jest in conversation, and it had not changed since they were boys.

* * *

Amirina walked with her aunt and Maester Luwin, holding a piece of parchment against a thin wood slab. She was furiously jotting down things as the two with her spoke of the materials necessary for the eve's feast and the stay of the royal family.

It had been when she arrived in Winterfell that she learned of the visiting family. A family she hated. Her time with her cousins had allowed her mind to avoid the topic of the "royals". However, a few eves past when Jon had visited her and shown her Ghost, she had truly begun to think about what the Lannister family wanted. She knew it was not Robert Baratheon that did shit for the Seven Kingdoms. Amirina knew he was a drunk and whoring friend of her Uncle Ned's. She knew that the queen, Cersei Lannister, and her father, Lord Tywin Lannister, controlled the kingdoms. She was no damn blind fool.

Her uncle had reminded her to keep a cool head when seeing them. If not, she would perhaps commit treason against the king and kill his wife. Then she would find Tywin Lannister and force him to suffer like her aunt did. But her uncle requested she stay "level", so she would.

As best she could at least.

"Amirina," Catelyn suddenly called, "how many candles do you think would suffice the queen's brother, Lord Tyrion?"

"For what, Aunt Cat?" she paused, confused as to why her aunt was being specific. Perhaps she had missed conversation while absorbed by her mind's inner churning.

"For reading."

"For drinking."

Her aunt and the Maester replied at the same time.

Amirina's eyes widened slightly and she shrugged a bit hesitantly. "I'm not quite sure. I know no man needs a candle to drink his way through a night. But I know a man does need perhaps three so he may comfortably read for a few hours."

Catelyn Stark shot Luwin a look akin to "I told you". She then turned around and continued walking, Maester Luwin by her side and Amirina pulling up the rear.

The Martell girl was slightly confused. "Would you like for me to write it upon the list, Aunt Cat?"

The red-haired woman waved Amirina's question off and began discussing other preparation topics, such as medicine storages just in case.

Amirina shook her head slightly and wrote the word 'candle' down anyways. Her aunt was far more approachable than when Amirina first arrived. After Catelyn had learned of most of the situation, her hostilities ceased and she felt only sorrow for Amirina. The Martell girl guessed that was alright, but she hated the looks of pity sent her way.

Amirina looked up and noticed the sky above her was a grey-blue. She smiled at it, relishing in the bit of sun that poked out behind the sky's colors. Breathing in deeply, she felt refreshed by the cool air filling her nose.

Looking back at her aunt, she realized the woman had begun walking a bit quicker and they were nearing the courtyard. Amirina quickly adjusted her step so she may fall back into pace with the two ahead of her.

"Aunt Cat," Amirina called, looking back down at her parchment, "should we try to get more of the wine or the mead?"

Catelyn stopped for a moment, her footsteps paused against the dirt beneath her. She looked quizzically at Amirina, asking a question with her eyes.

Rina cleared her throat and started noting things on the parchment. "Well, they're southerners. They drink more wine than anything and shall be far more attuned to the drink. So I question as to why we should have equal stores of it available? No normal southerner drinks mead to be able to stomach quite a bit of it, royal or not."

Maester Luwin shot her an approving look and Catelyn nodded. "We shall make the necessary changes to the caskets. Thank you, Rina." The woman gave her a genuine smile, small but true.

Amirina nodded her head and began to jot down more notes as they resumed their walking.

Soon they reached the courtyard and Amirina noticed the slight whimper of Summer, Brian's direwolf. She looked over at the pup and then up, knowing that if the dog was there then so was the boy. Her eyes traveled up the side of the stone walls and caught site of the little spider cousin named Brandon Stark.

"Brandon!" Catelyn called, her voice filled with scorn but touched with worry.

The boy began to speak as he climbed, looking down at them as he did so, "I saw the king! He's got hundreds of people."

Amirina had to stop herself from chuckling as the Stark matriarch was hearing none of it.

"How many times have I told you, no climbing?" she asked, annoyance accompanying her words.

Bran was just like his mother; he wasn't listening. "But he's coming right now! Down our road." He was sliding off the sloping roof of the stables, Catelyn walking up to him. Amirina decided it be best to stand by the maester.

Amirina watched the interaction, silent beside Luwin.

"I want you to promise me, no more climbing."

Bran looked down at his feet and Amirina couldn't help but let a snigger pass. He would lie.

"I promise."

Amirina shared a look with Maester Luwin, amused by the boy's inability to fail at lying for the sake of climbing.

Catelyn said something more but Amirina failed to hear it as the horses were quite loud and Catelyn stood with Bran a bit away. She did catch her aunt telling the boy to run and grab Ned, which she assumed was for the purpose of telling him the king was close.

Catelyn walked back over to Rina and Luwin, Summer having run after Bran.

"You know he shall never stop climbing, Aunt Cat," Amirina chuckled lightly, earning a smile from Maester Luwin.

Catelyn Stark signed and shook her head, looking at the fading figure of Bran. "I can only hope he does."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Ahhh sorry I had to cut it off there. This first one is so long I decided to chop it in half, as I had around 12k+ words for the whole chapter. So I split it in two! The next one shall be out very soon as it's simply unedited. I'm thinking it'll be up by next Saturday!_

 _I hope you all enjoyed this very difficult chapter, as I was facing some severe anxiety as of late due to my PTSD. This chapter along with moving got pushed to the back of my mind, so I apologize if it isn't the best. I truly am. I will be moving this Wednesday so settling in should be good! I'm moving back to the US so that's a plus._

 _I'll accept all CONSTRUCTIVE criticism haha, and love all feedback. Thank you all so much for your support and love! I've been needing it lately._

 _Love,_

 _P_

 _ **Guest** \- Ahh it appears she's gotten out of it! A bit selfishly however! Who knows if she'll ever see Eddard again? Thank you for the review!_

 _ **Guest** \- I do too! We'll have to wait and see though! Thank you love for the support!_

 _ **HPuni101** \- Thank you love for the constant support. Your review had me chuckling. Yes, one of the guards! It appears escape was a bit easier than anticipated but we all know it shall not be that simple! I'm glad you're interested in Roryk! I imagine more Sam Claflin features when thinking of him but I do get like a Rollo vibe from him when writing him. He'll be back. Hope this chapter went well! Thank you again!_

 _ **monkeybaby** \- Thank you love! Hope you continue to enjoy!_

 _ **Guest** \- Why he's in the Last Hearth! I can't specifically say where, however, as it will become pivotal later on! Thank you for the review!_


	20. Chapter 20

_**A/N:** Thank you all for the continued love, support, and patience, I truly appreciate it. I apologize for the wait! I know I said this would be done within the week of Chapter 19, but my laptop died unexpectedly and I lost everything. I have had to try and get as many chapters done for my actual book as I could, as that loss was the most substantial. Thankfully parts of that were actually backed up. But this story was not. I lost my outline and my next three chapters (including this one). I at least know the gist of what I want, so hopefully I won't fall too far behind. Sorry again loves, as an apology for my oversight, I included scenes not in my original draft but were in the episode, hopefully you enjoy them! I doubt I'll continue to split chapters unless absolutely necessary, so it may happen every once in a while. Now here is part 2!_

 ** _Disclaimer: Still don't own GoT, just waiting for George to send me a raven letting me know when the copyrights shall be transferred over. Also, tv lines will be used and so will the kinda outline of episode 1, simply due to necessity of story. D &D own that shit though. I ain't a genius._**

 ** _Warning: Some brief language, but let's be real, we watch GoT and read it, this isn't new_**

* * *

Robb shifted in his spot slightly. The wind was cool; it was not too warm and not too cold, but it still gave a small chill to his skin. It was a refreshing chill albeit and Robb welcomed it. His mother had forced them to wear their wolf-fur cloaks despite the relatively warm temperatures as of late. She claimed it looked nicer and even though it was warmer to them, the southerners would find it to be chilly unless they had thicker clothing items and cloaks themselves. She believed it would make them feel far more welcome. Robb doubted that.

He could hear the snorting of horses and the clatter of their hooves against the dirt as they rode up towards the decorated courtyard. Robb could also hear the clatter of metal upon metal from armor and swords and all of that sort. He found it odd that so many people must accompany one family. He could tell the number was large, the sounds proved that to him.

To his left was his father and to his right was Sansa. His younger sister had grown quite a bit and would start to near his own height once she had aged a bit more. It was odd to have her so tall but the rest of his siblings were so short.

He tilted his head to his left slightly and sent a wink to his half-brother. Jon rolled his eyes but gave a small smirk, the two having joked earlier about the royal family. His eyes caught Amirina, who gave him quite the look to face forward and be stoic. He rolled his Tully blue eyes at her but complied knowing she would make a far greater fuss if he embarrassed his family by simply jesting.

Suddenly Robb noticed his mother looking around, a panicked look in her river blue eyes. "Where's Arya?"

Robb looked over to where Arya should have been and noticed she was not there. He raised an eyebrow at Sansa as his mother asked, "Sansa, where is your sister?"

His little sister shrugged her shoulders, unbothered by their sister's disappearance. Robb rolled his eyes and nudged Sansa in the bicep, annoyed already by their antics. They needed to be in proper attitudes whilst the royal family was there and already they were off to a poor start.

"Ow, Robb," Sansa hissed under her breath, shooting him a toxic look.

Robb shrugged his shoulders, mimicking his sister's actions from earlier. "Oh, I do apologize dear sister. It appears your arm was in the way of mine own."

He smirked. Robb knew how to boil her blood just enough to make her want to rupture but she would have to keep calm as that would be what their mother wanted.

"Robb St-"

Heavy breathing and footsteps could be heard as young Arya Stark began to run past, a guard's helmet upon her head.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey," Ned said from next to Robb, grabbing onto Arya's arm. She stopped, catching her breath a small smile upon her childish features. Robb couldn't help but chuckle at her antics. "What are you doin' with that on?"

Robb watched as his father removed the helmet from Arya's head, revealing her dark braided hair and sheepish features upon her pale face. He knew his sister would never follow rules, especially on the day of the royal arrival. This was simply her way of doing so. And Robb could see it in the anger in his mother's eyes.

He watched as his father ushered her on to her spot in line, the girl bickering slightly with Bran. His father handed the helmet off behind him and Robb looked to see Jon, Theon, and Rina all doing their best to not burst into laughter. Amirina had her head dipped, Jon was looking at the back of Arya's head, and Theon was looking up above to the sky. Their lips were strained shut.

Robb shook his head and faced forward once more. He adjusted his lacking posture, shuffling his shoulders back and pushing his chest out. He looked straight ahead to the archway where horses with men hoisting the Lannister banners rode in.

He watched with dull curiosity as a man on a white horse rode in, his helmet shaped oddly. Robb knew the man had to be important if he rode in front of the prince. The only reason he knew who the little prick was was due to his fascination with making eye contact with the red haired girl standing to Robb's right.

He looked over at his sister and noticed the smile on her features. Her eyes failed to blink.

Robb looked back over at the blond prince and noticed a smug smirk upon the little shit's sharp face. His eyes were a blue green but seemed darker with intention.

Unease set into Robb Stark's gut.

A red carriage pulled into the courtyard, much slower than the horses in front of it. It revealed a rotund man, of who had a ruddy set of features that was aging clear as day. Robb knew it to be none other than the king, Robert Baratheon. He was said to only know how to drink, whore, and hunt. And by the looks of the man, the rumors were seemingly with ground.

Robb noticed the king pull his horse to a stop, signaling the need for everyone to kneel and acknowledge the presence of the man. The eldest Stark child pulled his leg to the ground, his head tilted down as to mean no disrespect for the King of the Seven Kingdoms. He would hold the position until his father was summoned to rise, thus allowing everyone else to follow suit. Despite wanting to know what occurred next, Robb kept his head down. He would need to grow good at kneeling, as one day he would be kneeling to the new king or to Robert when he took the role of his father in the North.

He heard the man dismount his horse and quickly walk over to the line of their family. Robb had to admit that the man moved quickly for having quite the form and couldn't help but tilt his eyes up to catch a peek. He never remembered the man, but he knew his father and Robert had been close for so long, he must have been the only good one there.

Robb noticed that the king stopped in front of his father and motioned him to stand quickly with his gloves hand. The boy waited for his father to start before he did, knowing it would be the patriarch who rises and then therefore allowing the rest to follow suit.

Robb corrected his posture once more. His eyes watched the exchange between his father and the king, interested to see it play out.

Ned bowed his head quickly with an acknowledgment of "Your grace". Robb knew it to be proper etiquette and wondered if it was slightly toned down due to their history.

He was correct in that assumption.

Not even a moment later, the king replied to his father, "You've got fat."

Robb stared incredulously at Robert, his eyes trailing down to the belly of the man. He wanted to chuckle lightly at the words but resisted the urge, for he was not being spoken to nor was he the greatest friend of the king.

The two men engaged in laughter after a few seconds, obviously enjoying the joke and lightness of the situation. Robb watched on as his father embraced the king in a brotherly hug. The man then moved onto his mother and greeted her warmly, the frame of the king swallowing her up. Robb smiled slightly at the sight, knowing his mother was beyond uncomfortable with the man simply by her reaction.

Robert Baratheon turned back to Eddard Stark and began to converse with him. "Nine years—why haven't I seen ya? Where the hell have ya been?"

Robb wished to roll his eyes slightly. The man had to know his father could never leave for the south, didn't he?

His father smiled. "Guarding the North for you, Your Grace," he said with kindness in his words. "Winterfell is your's."

Robb watched as the wheel-house caught his attention. Women had been exiting it. He assumed it was the queen's maids or something of that nature. He watched as two small children, a boy and a girl, exited along with a blonde woman. She donned a red dress and a large fur laid upon her shoulders. Her hair was pulled from her features, revealing a harsh visage. Her cheekbones were high and her dismissive eyes were a green-blue. Just like her son's. Robb knew it was the queen, he just didn't think she was as beautiful as they all claimed.

Robb suddenly snapped to attention when the king's voice became directed at him.

"Who have we here?" he asked rhetorically, Robb looking up to meet the man's eyes. "You must be Robb." He reached out with his hand and Robb met it, firmly grasping and shaking it as he had been taught. The older man gave a look of approval and the Stark heir felt an unknown sigh of relief wish to leave him.

The king then went down the line, commenting on the other children. He claimed Sansa to be "a pretty one". Arya was simply Arya (which Robb found to be a bit humorous, as his youngest sister was not amused by the king). And Bran would "be a soldier". Overall, simple things for never knowing them personally but not a poor job in Robb's opinion. He expected more bumbling oaf than anything else.

He could hear his sisters arguing for a second and turned his attentions to Jaime Lannister, the subject of their quick little spat. The man was the queen's twin brother and when Robb thought they looked similar, they were truly the spitting images of one another, just different sexes. Robb raised an eyebrow as the man seemed to stare at his sister but he shrugged it off. They were twins; twins were different from normal siblings.

The queen approached and his father kissed her knuckles and addressed her accordingly, his mother following suit in addresses. He rather detested the sight she was. Her nose was in the air, higher than anyone else's. It crinkled slightly so that someone could see the disdain she held for Winterfell if they could not read it in her cold eyes. Her whole aura was cold, causing Robb to shiver with anxiety. He had a rather poor feeling about the woman. He wanted her and all the Lannisters gone.

The king suddenly spoke up. "Take me to your crypt. I want to pay my respects."

Robb knew from stories from his father that the great King Robert Baratheon was once betrothed to his late aunt, Lyanna Stark. She was kidnapped and raped by Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, inciting Robert's Rebellion. Apparently, despite seventeen years having passed, that wasn't enough for the king. He still wanted to see her in any way he could.

The queen was quick to speak up, her voice tinged with a strange accent, one of southern origin but not as southern as Amirina's Dornish origin. "We've been riding a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait." If Robb didn't detest the woman's presence, he would pity her. Her husband was still rather persistant about a dead girl.

Trailing back to Amirina, he turned to look back at her and noticed that her jaw was clenched and a vein was trying to make itself prominent upon her forehead. Her hazel eyes were burning with anger and he could not find it in him to blame her. Everyone knew the Lannisters were responsible for Elia Martell's rape and death, and the death of her two children. No one acknowledged it however. His eyes trailed down and noticed that Jon was holding her bicep tightly, as if doing his best to hold her back or try to calm her. Robb smirked slightly and turned back to the event.

"Ned." the king called with finality in his voice, turning and walking through a gate to get to the crypts. The exact resting places of Lyanna and Katerina Stark.

Robb turned his head towards his father, watching as the man sighed in discomfort. The queen still stood before him, anger rolling off of her in small waves. Despite her quiet seething, his father swallowed hard and excused himself to go follow Robert. Everyone was silent a moment, a tension that could be cut with a knife.

His sisters said something to incite a command from the queen to her twin brother, but he failed to hear it. His eyes were locked on the Kingslayer. His sea green eyes were attached to another thing other than his sister. Robb had followed the path. The line of sight. He turned around slightly and glanced at Amirina. Her anger had dissipated and instead of hate, there was confusion. Confusion and also…recognition. Robb didn't like it one bit.

* * *

Ned tried his best to keep in stride with his greatest friend, the heavier man walking with long strides and purpose. The torches kept the halls of the crypt lit well enough. Water did drip from the high and round ceilings sometimes, but one couldn't control water seeping though the ground.

"Tell me about Jon Arryn," he stated more than asked. The man was like another father. He needed to know how everything went so horribly wrong so quickly.

Robert sighed. "One minute he was fine and then…" he paused a moment, "burned right through him, whatever it was."

Ned had a difficult time believing the man simply fell ill and absolutely nothing could stop it. He hated the feeling in his gut of pure discomfort from such a situation.

"I loved that man," Robert said, his eyes only looking forward, peeled for the one person's statue he came for.

Ned looked down slightly, wanting to sigh. "We both did."

His greatest friend breathed in deeply as they continued walking. "He never had to teach you much, but me?" he asked, forcing memories to begin to pop up in Ned's mind. "You remember me at sixteen?" Ned couldn't help but chuckle lightly. He remembered of course. He never would forget his friend when they were in the prime of their youth.

"All I wanted to do was crack skulls and fuck girls," the king said with humor in his words. Ned had yet to see when that want would leave. "He showed me what was what." Ned failed to see if Jon had done as such.

But for the sake of his friend, he gave a simple "Aye".

Robert caught on however and looked over at Ned. "Don't look at me like that. It's not his fault I didn't listen." The two then laughed lightly, knowing what he said was true.

The two stopped walking and faced one another. Ned got a good look at his oldest friend and noticed that he had truly changed even over the past nine years. His face was fatter and his wiry hair was greying quickly. Perhaps his cheeks were ruddy from an earlier drink or the cold, but Ned felt the slightest bit of worry gnaw at the back of his mind.

The man breathed heavily, worn from the walking they had commenced. "I need you Ned—down at King's Landing, not up here where you're no damn use to anybody."

Ned breathed deeply. Cat had been right. And he had a feeling within his gut that this would happen. The Hand of the King was dead. Eddard was Robert's closest friend and confidant. Of course he would be the next logical choice. But he simply could not believe it to be true. He could not turn his friend, the king, down. He did not want to leave his family. He could not leave Robb to take care of Winterfell in his stead. Catelyn would be forced to stay. She could help Robb. But what of their children? When would he see their faces once more? But he could not say no.

"Lord Eddard Stark," Robert started, his voice serious, "I would name you the Hand of the King."

How would he protect Amirina? She would be left in Winterfell, yes, but his presence would not be there to shield her from her husband and his father. He knew she was not truly safe, even with him there. He feared for his niece's life, truly. With the king here, nothing would be attempted. But he had a strange feeling within him that was forcing worry to scare him.

He kneeled onto one leg and bowed his head. He could try one way to get out of it. "I'm not worthy of the honor."

But Robert was not having it. "I'm not trying to honor you. I'm trying to get you to run my kingdom while I eat, drink and whore my way to an early grave," he chuckled lightly at the end. His hand reached down and placed itself upon Ned's shoulder. "Damn it, Ned, stand up.

"You helped me win the Iron Throne, now help me keep the damn thing," he said, conviction flowing through him. "We were meant to rule together. If your younger sister had lived, we'd have been bound by blood." Ned knew his words to be true. He knew that Lyanna would have been forced to marry Robert. She would have become Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. All of it would have happened if Rhaegar still was killed at the hand's of Robert. All of it would have happened against her will if she had lived. But he had not the heart to tell his friend.

"Well it's not too late," Robert said suddenly. Ned looked at his friend, knowing where this was going as well. "I have a son. You have a daughter. We'll join our houses."

Ned opened his mouth to say something in return but Robert had already pushed past him down the branch where Lyanna laid in rest. He felt his jaw clench tightly. Eddard Stark could not even speak up against what he rather disagreed with. He was the Warden of the North and he could not argue for his daughter's freedom. He could not argue for what was best for his family. More than likely, he would be a lone wolf. Never had a lone wolf survived. Neither of his sisters survived. His brother and father did not survive. All of them died in the South. His sisters in Dorne. His brother and father in King's Landing. Now he would be in King's Landing. Wolves never fared well in the South.

He sighed and turned to follow his friend. Ned quickly caught up to him and saw him standing in front of Lyanna's final resting place. Her stone statue stood still in the torchlight, her Stark direwolf sat proudly next to her. The stone did nothing to showcase her natural beauty. Only memories could try and approach such a thing.

The king suddenly took a red feather out of his cloak and gently placed it upon the outstretched hand of Lyanna's statue. Eddard sighed, disappointed his friend could still not get over her death. She was never his to mourn.

"Did you have to bury her in a place like this?" Robert asked, old grief intertwining with his words. Ned shook his head as he stared at the back of the man. He would never understand. "She should be on a hill somewhere with the sun and the clouds above her."

"She was my sister," Eddard said, his words quiet but firm. Robert never truly knew Lyanna. "This is where she belongs, beside her sister and father and brother and mother."

Robert's voice hardened but his eyes never left her statue. "She belonged with me." His hand reached up to touch the somewhat similar face of the statue.

"In my dreams, I kill him every night."

Eddard sighed and looked over at Katerina's statue. His dark eyes searched the face that tried to do justice for his older sister. He wanted to sigh in discomfort. His sister's head had been cut from her shoulders. Yet, they did their best to reattach it. His mother had arranged for it. Benjen had wanted it as well. Ned had not. He had seen her when it was still separated. He could never remove the image from his mind.

He looked back over at his friend and shook his head. "The deed is done, Your Grace. The Targaryens are gone," Ned said, hoping Robert would stop speaking of a fight from seventeen years past. It was not healthy to dwell.

But Robert turned back to Ned and almost sneered, "Not all of them."

For a split second, Ned's heart abruptly stopped. He worried if he knew. But he realized that the man would not still be grieving over Lyanna if he knew. He must've been speaking on the Targaryen children, Viserys and Daenerys. Ned was no fool. He knew the two Targaryens escaped Westeros during the last stages of the rebellion. He and Robert had been informed of their escape right after it occurred. He was admittedly surprised the two children had lived, but he wasn't entirely. The dragons would not die off as easily as Robert hoped to believe.

Robert then turned and walked over to Katerina's statue. He placed one small golden dragon upon her statue's hand. "I am sorry we never expected it, Ned. She was like an older sister to me."

Ned nodded in thanks. Despite his friend's unhealthy obsession with his younger sister, he knew that Katerina was still someone he was fond of. His sister even had quite the fit when she fancied him whilst they were younger. But then she was swept away by the Martell man due to their parents, and Ned never had the chance to say goodbye. He and Robert had been with Jon Arryn by then.

"How is her daughter?" Robert suddenly asked, turning towards Ned.

Eddard looked at his older sister's statue once more. "I worry for her safety. She has been wed and has a son."

"To who?" the king asked curiously, cocking an eyebrow.

"The Lord Umber's son," Ned said quietly, anger wishing to surface. But it would never break his stoic nature. "But she is visiting for some time before she returns to the Last Hearth. She is sick from her time away from Dorne, I can see it in her eyes. The same eyes as her mother."

Robert chuckled. "She'll always be more viper than wolf, Ned."

Eddard felt the corner of his lips lift. He knew it to be true. Her father had raised her. If Katerina had been there, Amirina would have been a wolf. But even that, he doubted. He wondered often times if she would have been something different.

"I wish to meet her at the feast," Robert said suddenly. "Keep her away from my damned wife and her kin. I worry more for them than for her. Never allow a viper near a lion."

Ned couldn't help but agree. He didn't want his niece near his friend, for he worried if Robert saw anything akin to Lyanna in her, but anything for the king.

* * *

Amirina stood silently, anger fueling through her.

"I'll kill her," she hissed.

Jon chuckled and continued sharpening his sword with a whetstone. "Ya wouldn't even get within an arm's length of her, Rina. Her brother would strike ya down before ya could."

Amirina rolled her eyes and felt discomfort fill her. The Kingslayer was the man in her fever dreams. He was the one who found her dead mother. She had tried her best to forget those damned dreams. But once she saw the golden hair of Jaime Lannister, she froze. He looked only a few years older, his face having matured since her dream. Well she obviously knew he would look older. He was seventeen years older. She failed to say anything to anyone though. She could never mention it to anyone.

"Well, I believe I will have to kill them both then," Amirina mused, watching as Jon finished up with his sharpening. "Must Catelyn always keep you from things?"

"The king is here, Rina," Jon sighed. "Your aunt does not believe it in the best interests of the family if I were to attend."

Amirina huffed and crossed her arms. "Then perhaps I will not attend, either. A Martell's daughter is not something that should be out and about whilst in the presence of some Lannister scum."

Jon chuckled lowly, amused by Amirina's anger and frustrations. "Father said he wished for ya to attend. Do not believe that ya are unable to."

The Martell girl laughed loudly at his words, unable to fathom how he suddenly became an angel. "How is it that you are suddenly voicing for my attendance of a trivial feast? When we were children, you would always beg me to spend my eves with you rather the festivities."

Jon inspected his sword then, the shining metal glimmering in the fire light. Amirina smiled at the sight of her cousin. He was content when he had a sword in his hands. It made her worry, for what else could a man do with it? He could go become a guardsman. Or he could become a soldier, should the time ever come. He could become the master-at-arms once Sir Rodrik passed on. He could go to the Night's Watch. The last one made Amirina's face drop in dread. She hoped and prayed to old and new that he never join that gods awful group. Sure they protected the Wall. But Amirina knew they were doing a piss poor job at it if Wildlings managed to become a "scourge" in the forests surrounding the Last Hearth.

"That was when we were children, Rina." He turned to place the sword in its sheath. She knew he'd be in the training yard all eve, unleashing his anger and hurt upon a damn wooden target. "You're ten and eight now, Rina. Robb and I shall be ten and seven. We have duties."

Her head then perked up. "I forgot."

Jon turned towards her, an eyebrow raised. "Ya forgot what?"

She gave a sad smile and sighed deeply. "I forgot my nameday."

Jon stood stock still for a moment. She could see the inner workings of his mind racing at the speed of a horse's gallop. He seemed in disbelief. "H-how?" he choked out, confused as to how she could forget. It was her nameday!

Rina scoffed, knowing damn well as to why she forgot. "My _husband_ never bothered to learn it. And no one ever spoke of it. I didn't have the family there to remind me."

Jon scratched his chin then, obviously trying to think back to something. "Did I not send a raven for your nameday?"

Amirina opened her mouth and closed it once more. Perhaps he had? Perhaps it was not a fantastic day for her and she skipped over the writings? She was not sure.

"Perhaps you did, Jon. I must have been distracted that day or I must have seen it and forgotten? I was quite forgetful when with my son," she said, stumped. Surely she would have addressed it in her next raven to him. Ah well, she thought, it was in the past now.

"No matter!" she said, clapping her hands together. "Since you shall not attend the feast, you shall escort me to the doors."

Jon chuckled and shook his head. He held out his arm, knowing there was no use in resisting her wishes. Amirina smiled widely at him, looping her arm with his. She knew he would cave, either immediately or soon after she badgered his ear off.

She placed her other hand on the one that sat comfortably upon his forearm, the position similar to one she held with her husband before their wedding and whilst she was with their son. Amirina smiled at her cousin, knowing he was smiling as well.

They were not ten anymore. They could not play. They could not laugh as loudly as they wished to. They could not sneak out into the stables and pet the horses. But, they could discuss books. They could go to the Godswood together. They could laugh quietly in private. They could do simple things as they were engaging in, defying Catelyn's damned hatred. They were the greatest friends, and whilst age changed their activities, it did not change their amity.

The walk would be a short one, but Amirina minded not. She would spend some time with him afterwards perhaps. Or she would only have to claim she needed some "fresh air" and she'd be able to walk to the training grounds, which were right outside the grand hall. If neither worked, she would take the walk and then any time she had with her cousin tomorrow. She believed that the strange fancies she had for him many moons past was just a misunderstanding between her mind and her heart. She loved Jon, for he was her cousin and best friend; he was nothing more and she had realized it. Or believed she had at least.

"Do you think I will be asked to dance?" Amirina mused playfully, enjoying a good jest with Jon. He was different than her in many regards. He was far more quiet and closed off, even with her. But he knew how to joke with her and how to be serious with her. They were similar in that, strengthening their bond.

Jon took a deep breath, "Oh, I'm not sure, Rina. Do women who have birthed a babe even dance? I've never seen Lady Catelyn dance with father."

"You're implying that not even you would ask me to dance, Jon Snow?" She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

He patted her hand on his arm and gave her a look similar to one of apology. "I'm sorry Rina, but I would never ask to dance with ya. Ya have two left feet," he chuckled.

Amirina stopped in her tracks, jolting the Stark bastard. "I most certainly do not!"

Jon shrugged his shoulders and urged her to keep walking. "Well, let us pray to the old and new that no one asks you to dance this eve. I would rather not see such a bombardment of flailing on your part," he said, staring right ahead as if he was not trying to burst into laughter. "Only for your sake of course, Rina."

"Eat a pile of horse shit, Jon Snow," Amirina hissed, her words funny however. She would never truly mean it.

They stopped in front of the open doors that led to the bustling and clamoring of drunken soldiers, maidens, royals, and family. Jon looked in to the commotion and raised an eyebrow.

"If eating shit meant not participating in that," he emphasized by pointing towards the brightly lit room, "then bring me the horse."

Amirina chuckled and nudged him slightly. "You shall not be missing anything entertaining, I promise you that Jon Snow."

Jon smiled at her and slipped his arm out of her grasp. He nodded his head in thanks, true gratitude for her companionship. He would more than likely be far more miserable if he did not have her friendship. Jon leaned in to give her a quick hug in appreciation before turning to approach the training grounds.

"Don't kill the poor thing!" Amirina called out, the noise from the hall far too loud to allow a normal speaking level.

Jon turned around and shrugged mockingly. Rina rolled her eyes and shooed him away, watching as he did just that. Her smile drained from her face, though. She hurt for Jon more time than she cared to. He was good. He was kind. He was intelligent. Yet, Catelyn's incorrigible jealousy drove those things down below the surface and beneath a wall no catapult could penetrate. It had taken years of friendship for him to even act the way he did with her now. She was thankful for it. Thankful for him and his presence. And she was certain that he was thankful for her.

Amirina turned to face the ruckus and took a solid breath through her nose. She looked down to her dress and patted it down slightly. The dress was a bit modified in a sense. It was of Dornish style but had northern aspects to it. It was a light blue, representing her Stark mother. It was loose fitting on the top and bottom, but was wrapped tightly around her midsection. The neckline sharply dove in a v to the wrap and covered her breasts well. The sleeves were long and flowed like waterfalls. They were thinly cut at the shoulders to the end, allowing a window of access for her arms and hands. The fabric was a certain silk her father had said was found only in Essos. She didn't believe him, but the dress was one of her favorites. It looked like a Martell garment.

Her hair was done simply. The curls were obvious on the top of her head. However, she had split her hair down the middle and braided it from the base of her scalp down. It allowed for her hair to fall out naturally to frame her features. The curls seemed to want to bounce out of the constriction, but it added a certain flavor to the plain style.

Amirina puffed her chest slightly, straightening her posture and pushing her shoulders back. The loose braid laid over her shoulder and hung past her breasts. She pulled on an observing mask and clasped her hands in front of her body.

Ready to enter, she did.

The room was loud and boisterous. Men were laughing. Drinks were sloshing. Plates were emptied. Maids were grabbed. There was no room to even think of dancing. Yet music was played. Dancing music.

Amirina knew she would need wine to get through the festivities. Her eyes searched the hall and locked on the head table. Her aunt sat next to the queen. The two were tense and Amirina was no fool. She could see the disdain in the queen's eyes as she stared at one thing. Rina looked over to see what it was that held her attention.

Unsurprisingly, Amirina caught sight of the king unabashedly groping a maid. And the woman seemed to enjoy it. He reminded her of her husband at feasts. Except the Smalljon was a little more discreet when he had less alcohol flowing.

Amirina made it her goal to find her uncle, so she started walking around the mess but still within it. She wished to discuss some arrangements with him, especially after hearing the news of him potentially becoming the new Hand of the King. It made her rather uncomfortable.

A woman walked by with a platter of goblets, filled ones at that. Amirina quickly and deftly snatched one off the platter and held onto it tightly.

"Are you old enough to drink?" a smug voice questioned behind her.

Amirina turned around and was faced with Jaime Lannister, the queen's twin brother. She found that he was quite handsome and could see why her mother had fancied him. It repulsed her, however, that she knew her mother had been bedded by him. Or perhaps, those had simply been fever dreams that she managed to conjure up in her lack of lucidity. His straw gold hair was quite long for a southern man, swept away from his clean shaven face. His eyes were a sea green and his features were curious. He was as beautiful a man as women whispered him to be.

Amirina took a deep breath and then lifted the goblet to her lips, drinking the warm wine. She wished to shake away from the harsh drink. She was not a fan of whatever damned wine her aunt had. It tasted rancid compared to the Dornish wines her father procured.

"If I'm not old enough to drink, Ser Lannister," she began, raising an eyebrow and pulling the goblet down, "then I most certainly am not old enough to mother a son. Yet, I have done both."

The Kingslayer raised an eyebrow in response, his eyes trailing her body for a brief moment. They returned to her own, surprised but intrigued. "You most certainly do not seem to be old enough to have a boy that is of substantial age."

Amirina nodded. "My son is merely six moons old. He is my first."

Jaime flashed her a smirk, having the feeling of satisfaction flowing to his mind. "And who might your husband be? Or is your son a bastard, like the Stark lord has?"

A want to grit her teeth at the obviously rude remark was suppressed, as she had enough practice with her husband.

"My husband is the Smalljon Umber," she stated, her tone neutral as she raised the goblet to her lips once more. "My son is true."

"Then where might your husband be? Surely he would not allow his wife out into a feast dressed as such?" he questioned, his words seeming to be pleasant but Amirina knew they were not. He was prodding. She knew not what her mother saw in him now if the dreams were to be believed.

Deciding to be snarky in response, Amirina leaned against a wooden support and tapped her chin with her fingers. "Hmm, perhaps he is in the Last Hearth? Or perhaps he is here with me? Perhaps he is within the crowd of men, groping another woman while his wife sits idly by and watches. Or perhaps he is in a deep sleep covered by furs due to a bit of milk of the poppy I slipped into his ale, simply so I may enjoy an eve to myself?"

The elder Lannister man smirked and couldn't help but chuckle at her words. Amirina smiled in response, drinking more of the wine to allow her the looseness she needed to even be able to look the man in the eyes. Inside, she was a mess. She wished to ask him about Katerina Stark. She wished to ask him if her dreams were true. She wished to see if he was…well, who she wondered he could be. But she could not, would not, and definitely she knew she should not. It was foolish. In addition to that, she found his company entertaining, despite his smug attitude.

"While the first option is undoubtedly true, I find the others entertaining," he confessed, giving something between a smile and a smirk. She wondered if that was all he could do.

"Knowing my husband, the second option would be true if he was here," she huffed, looking out to the tables of guffawing men. "However, also knowing him, I would not be allowed to leave his side, and especially not in the state of dress I am in."

Jaime raised an eyebrow. "Your husband would openly touch women as you stood by his side dressed as an old septon?"

Giving a slight chuckle, she nodded. But then she made a rather true point. "That is essentially what the king is engaging in right now, don't you believe? The queen may sit there at that table but he knows she has clear view of his…antics."

In an instant, Amirina saw a slight twitch flicker in the jaw of the king's guard. She knew it was difficult for him to see his sister in pain. Hells, if the same were to happen to any of the Stark children, Amirina would be livid to see such a thing occurring. She could only imagine the connection between twins.

The blond man cleared his throat and turned his attention back to Amirina. His gaze was intense. It studied her features and her mannerisms. She felt rather uncomfortable with it but it soon left. He had been taking her in. Perhaps he sensed something familiar about her face. Or perhaps she was similar to her mother in the way she acted around him for the first time? If that even happened, that is.

"What is it that brings you to this godsforsaken country?" he inquired, obviously curious as to why she had traveled to Winterfell alone. "You're no Northern girl. You dress like a Southern lady and your skin is admittedly darker than any northern lass I've met."

Hmm, she pondered, that was what he studied. Despite her annoyance at his disrespect for the North and Winterfell, she could still carry conversation with him.

"This 'godsforsaken country' has become my home," she pointed out with a hint of attitude. His sea green eyes danced with amusement. "You'd be correct in stating that I am not from the North. I am from farther south. However, I have lived in the North for quite some time. And I am in Winterfell due to my connections with the Starks, we are in the middle of an…agreement."

She could not give away her relations to them quite yet. And technically she wasn't lying. She was here due to an agreement. And she did have connections with the Starks. They were just familial connections.

"Now if you'll excuse me, Ser Lannister-"

"Ser Jaime," he corrected.

Amirina chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Ser Jaime then. If you shall excuse me, I must meet up with the Lord Stark."

The man nodded his head and took her free hand. While maintaining eye contact, he placed a light kiss upon her knuckles. She gave a small smile. She had to admit to his charm and appearance. She failed to see how her mother could not fall for the man if the dreams had been true. A part in the back of her mind rather hoped they weren't. He was quite charming. But all men were when they wanted something, she reminded herself.

"It's been a pleasure…"

"Rina," she finished for him. It was neither her name nor was it not her name. She failed to lie to him yet.

"It has been a pleasure, Lady Rina."

Amirina smiled and turned away from the man, feeling his eyes upon her back as she searched around for a hint of her uncle. She knew he wanted something of her and she wished to see him anyways.

* * *

Catelyn sat beside Cersei, her back tightened so it could only be straight. Her palms were clasped nervously upon her lap. She was not nervous by the presence of the queen. She was nervous of what she, herself, would say. Catelyn knew the queen detested the North and the situation she was put into. She was the second choice for Robert. She expected to marry Rhaegar Targaryen but was denied that also. She may have been called the most beautiful woman in Westeros, but she was the unhappiest as well.

Or perhaps Amirina now earned that title.

"That girl," the queen's cold and unmoving voice suddenly spoke up, "the one speaking to my brother. Who might she be?"

The Lady Stark turned her attention from the blonde beauty next to her to search the crowd of men in front of her. It did not take long however to spot the twin brother of the woman next to her. He stuck out like a sore thumb with his straw gold hair and light leathers.

Catelyn narrowed her eyes on the woman who stood across from him and wished to suddenly shrink into her chair. Of course it was Amirina. The girl was beautiful, no doubt, but must she really have been conversing with the Kingslayer?

Catelyn cleared her throat. "That would be my husband's niece, Amirina, Your Grace."

The queen titled her head slightly, her eyes narrowing ever so lightly as if to see her features better in the dim light and commotion. They could see the sides of their faces as they spoke. They couldn't make out what they were saying but Catelyn swore she saw a smile appear on the young girl's features. Oh what was she doing?

"How old is she?"

"She recently reached her eighteenth nameday, Your Grace," Catelyn answered, confused as to why the woman was suddenly interested.

The queen never looked at Catelyn once as she spoke. "Is she wed?"

What was that woman scheming?

"Yes, Your Grace. She married the Smalljon Umber of the Last Hearth almost exactly a year ago. They have a son named after my husband," she confessed, hoping the Lannister would stop questioning Cat about her niece.

Without warning, the queen turned towards Catelyn, her features icy and stoic. "Who from your husband's family is she from? I recall that all but his crow brother are dead."

Never had Catelyn Stark wanted to hit a person more. She knew the words were meant to sound genuine, but they didn't. They were cold and taunting, as if laughing at the fact that perhaps one of them died at the hands of Lannister orders and another died because of her changing alliance.

"She is the daughter of the late Katerina Stark, Your Grace," she begrudgingly admitted. At times, Catelyn wondered how terrible a Lannister could be. She knew the answer once she had heard the story of what happened to Elia Martell and her two children. She was in fact surprised by Amirina's civility when speaking to a Lannister because of knowing what she knew. She was surprised she had not packed a dagger and driven through an eye of his already.

"Katerina Stark and Oberyn Martell?" Cersei questioned, despite knowing she was right.

Catelyn nodded. "That would be correct, Your Grace. Her father often allowed her trips here so she may grow with her cousins."

The queen cocked her head and then looked down to the table of children in front of them. She nodded slowly towards Robb, who was currently laughing loudly with Theon. Catelyn smiled at the image of her eldest son.

"He thought not to betroth her to your son?" Cersei asked, an eyebrow raised.

Catelyn was taken aback. They were cousins! She knew a lot of the generation of their parents married cousins, but it had increasingly become far too similar to the Targaryen's ways. Catelyn and Ned would have never allowed it. Oberyn might have, but he didn't even want his daughter wed in the first place.

Trying to collect herself, Catelyn cleared her throat. "No, Your Grace. They've grown together. They're as close to brother and sister as they can become without truly having that close of a blood bond. It would not be fair to either of them," she said, trying to make it seem like perhaps they did think about it but immediately said no. In actuality, Catelyn was not lying. Those two were like brother and sister, they could never possibly be married.

"She's quite beautiful," the queen said offhandedly, her eyes glued back on the interaction between her brother and Amirina. Catelyn looked back at the two and noticed them seeming to depart from one another's company.

Lady Stark nodded in agreement and watched warily as the Kingslayer kept his eyes upon Amirina's retreating figure. "That she is," she said quietly.

* * *

Amirina had been pleasantly surprised to see Uncle Benjen when she finally found Ned. She had greeted him warmly, despite having only met him once before. His time on the Wall never allowed him family time. He had to hide it as business. With the recent execution of a crow, he was sent down to Winterfell. Of course, he would speak on terms he was supposed to, but he could also speak to his family.

After greeting him, Amirina asked Ned what it was that required her presence this eve. He informed her of the king's want to meet her. His words were hesitant, as if he himself did not want her to meet the man. Ned, however, knew the king was drunk and said that she could meet him another day. He told her to go enjoy herself and that she was invited to break her fast with he and Catelyn on the morrow. Then they could discuss certain topics.

She thanked him and was about to leave when Robb came up. So, deciding it best to stay with someone she knew, she waited until he was done with his greetings before she left with him.

"I don't believe I've been to a feast that is this crowded," Amirina spoke, having to be a bit louder as she and Robb cut through the bustling of men and tables.

Robb laughed as they squeezed past people. His hand held tightly onto her's so she would get caught up by some drunk. "You're simply upset that you're not able to dance."

Amirina had to agree to that, "Well what is a feast without dancing? By old and new there is even dancing music!"

"Oh live a little, Rina!" Robb laughed. "Dancin' music doesn't always mean dancin'!"

She had to disagree with such a statement. In Dorne, dancing music meant dancing. Of course, the styles were completely different between the regions. But still, besides that, dancing was supposed to commence once the appropriate music was playing! Surely they could have made room for such an event.

The two finally arrived at the table. Amirina caught Sansa sitting next to her friend, Jeyne or something along those lines. Arya sat across the table a little ways down. Theon sat to the right of Bran, and Rickon was presumably already in bed for the eve. Amirina was surprised to see Bran there so late, but she assumed he was behaving well enough. Or perhaps he was on his way to bed anyways.

Robb dragged her to sit beside him, forcing Theon to scoot to the left and allowing Amirina to sit between the boys.

"Ahh, Rina," Theon smirked, drink obvious on his breath, "'ow lovely o' ya to join us."

Amirina rolled her eyes but smiled all the same. Yes, Theon Greyjoy was a perverted prick, but he grew up with them all the same. He was kind sometimes and disgustingly rude others, but he was Theon. It was how he was. And Amirina knew he had grown on her all the same.

"Theon," she addressed him with a nod, "how lovely of you to wait for me before you started chugging your weight in wine."

The kraken boy laughed and tipped his goblet to her in appreciation for such a joke. "I'll let ya know, Rina, I've only 'ad two goblets!"

"Then you must be piss poor at drinking, because dear Theon, you act like you've downed five."

He shrugged his shoulders and Robb couldn't help but cough in attempts to not laugh while he finished eating.

The Greyjoy resumed his eating and allowed Amirina to turn her attentions to Sansa.

"Dear Sansa," Amirina beamed, surprised by how dolled the girl appeared to be, "who has got you all dressed in your finest?" She didn't like Sanaa's attitude at points, but she was still her little cousin and she was fond of her.

The fiery-haired girl turned her head down with a bright blush cascading over her thin cheeks.

The Martell placed her chin in one of her hands and smiled. "I believe I know who has you blushing as brightly as a rose."

Sansa shot her head up and looked to her left, where the prince sat smugly. Amirina looked in that direction (her right) and couldn't help but wish to sneer at the boy. His oddly sharp and pale features were encased by the torchlight. His bright blue eyes were only as such because of color and not due to a youthful liveliness. In fact, Rina swore they seemed darker with malice. His hair was far more blond than even his mother. And his thin lips peeled back into a content smirk, as if Sansa's affections made him the happiest boy in the world simply because it boosted his ego.

She turned towards Sansa once more and gave a pained smile, but the girl would know no difference.

"I think he is starting to fancy you, little wolf," Amirina offered, hating how the words rolled off her tongue. She doubted the boy even knew what that meant.

The girl's Tully blue eyes widened and lit up like a fire finally stoked to its true potential. "Do you truly?"

"Of course!" Amirina exclaimed, trying to be happy for the girl but failing to feel such a way. "He would be a fool not to. You're beautiful, Sansa."

The young Stark girl only smiled in response and turned her head towards her friend, talking excitedly and often turning back towards the prince.

"Ya hate him just as much as I," Robb's voice suddenly spoke near to her ear.

Amirina kept her eyes trained on Sansa however.

"Let the girl have her fantasies, Robb," she turned and whispered to him. Their faces were close so they could whisper, unaware of how Catelyn Stark now looked at the pair of them—a worrisome idea having been planted in her mind earlier.

Robb sighed and shook his head. "I won't allow my sister to be ogled at by a prick like 'im." His words were growing less pronounced and were picking up their accent once more.

She placed a hand on his shoulder and tried her best to calm his brotherly worries. "Robb," she said, hoping to ease his mind, "it won't be a large deal. It's not like the houses will join. Your father won't split up the family. And she's too young. She's what? Ten and three?"

"Thirteen ya mean?" Robb teased, knowing she hated the differences in spoken mannerisms.

She pushed his shoulder back and tried her best to not laugh. "Oh hush, Robb Stark! It is not my fault we are taught ages differently in Dorne."

"It is the exact same as numbers though! Just say the numbers! We are not our grandparents!" he laughed out, a wide smile on his maturing features.

Amirina sat there with Robb and Theon until Arya was forced to bed after flinging food at Sansa's face. She had admittedly found it hilarious but kept her laughs in due to the older girl's near-whiny state. She knew she would be embarrassed, as the prince could see her, but she failed to see the importance of making a scene as she did.

She had aided Robb in getting Arya up and walking, deciding it best to find Jon then and escape the feast. On her way, she had nodded her head to her aunt. And then she looked at the queen. The fucking Lannister bitch. She knew she hated her Aunt Elia. She knew she did. Any woman would (except for her Aunt Lyanna and her mother). But Cersei has been pushed to the side for Rhaegar, Elia was to be his wife. She was far more beautiful and she was kind and intelligent. She didn't rely on her looks to achieve her status.

So she locked eyes with Queen Cersei Lannister and cocked her head slightly. She hoped the woman had taken her dress into account. She hoped she had understood the culture the dress originated from. She hoped she felt her breath catch in her throat because a Martell was near. And she hoped the woman felt threatened by a woman who was younger and more beautiful than she. Because one day, she would kill the woman who played a hand in the deaths of her family. She would skin the lions for their pelts (unless the dreams were true, then she would not kill the man who could be her blood). She couldn't wait for that day to come.

* * *

Jon sat in his room, Ghost laying next to him on his bed. He absentmindedly scratched behind the ears of the albino direwolf, the pup falling asleep as he did so.

He had left the training grounds a while after he had seen his Uncle Benjen and the Lannister imp. He couldn't face Amirina. He couldn't face Robb. He couldn't face any of his half-siblings. He wanted time to himself. He wanted time to truly decide if he was going to do it. If he was going to give up his brothers and sisters and his bet friend.

He wished Amirina could accompany him at least to the Wall. He wished she could come with him and see it. Jon Snow wished he didn't have to leave his best friend. And gods did he not want to tell her. He dreaded it.

But he had to. He had no life in Winterfell. He hated the constant degradation by Catelyn. He hated that he could potentially bring other bastards into this world if he got too clumsy. He hated that he would have no title and inherit no true land. He was not his brother. He was no Stark.

His right hand reached underneath his tunic and felt the cool metal necklace beneath. He felt his thumb trace the direwolf head. Gods did he wish he didn't have to. But he did. He would rest easy knowing he was going to protect Westeros. That he would stand where men have stood for the past eight thousand years, serving the greater good.

He would bring the necklace along and always keep it hidden. It would be his memory. His way to remember there may be no place for him here, but he had some who did support him the best they could. But it wasn't enough.

Jon Snow decided he would take the black and become a crow.

* * *

 _A/N: There we are loves! We're officially in canon! And oooh it's already stirring. I know it's a bit frustrating to have some dialogue pulled straight from the show, but I promise to keep it to a minimal. But it's a necessary evil at points._

 _Also! Dreams! Were they real? Were they just fever induced hallucinations? Strange. Lemme know what y'all think! I already know of course but haha that's alright!_

 _And oooooh oh can't wait to have Cersei and Amirina in the same conversation. I await it with pleasure._

 _And aw, Jon. Dear Jon "you know nothing" Snow. He's taking the black of course! We'll see how that goes with his greatest friend._

 _Thank you all for the love and support and again, I apologize for the wait! I hope the 10K+ chapter made up for that! I love you all! Constructive criticism and reviews are appreciated!_

 _Love,_

 _P_

 _ **HPuni101** \- Hello love! Thank you again for the reviews! I believe I PM-ed you with the details as to why she returned, but I can't remember. She simply wasn't planning on returning. And the marriage was politically based on account of Ned, Doran, and the Greatjon, so Amirina was only willing due to duty! She definitely wasn't expecting to return and stay for a while, a certain dead guard prompted that haha. Thank you again so much for your reviews and your constant support. Hope you liked this one!_

 _ **Vgy** \- Haha thank you dear! Sorry for the wait and I hope this chapter was worth it!_

 _ **monkeybaby** \- Thank you love hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!_

 _ **Anna.B** \- Thank you so much for such a long review, I truly appreciated it! It seems her situation, personally, is safe for now. But who knows? And yes, Lagertha is another inspiration for her! I really like her and Wonder Woman and believe she's strong and capable like the both of them, but fight wise? We'll have to wait for a real fight to see that! Such a reunion would be much needed! I believe Ned and Cat recognize the mistake but I'm not sure Doran does, but we'll find out soon! And it will all come out in due time my dear! Thank you again and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!_


	21. Chapter 21

_**A/N** : Thank you all for the continued love and support! I hope y'all enjoy! I apologize for the LONG delay. I ended up needing to cancel my Hulu subscription as my account got hacked, so I lost my access to Game of Thrones for quite some time. I've finally gotten the whole ordeal settled with my card and my account. So yay! I apologize for the wait my loves! And I apologize if the chapter seems choppy at all, I've been traveling a lot and had to work on it only in my spare time._

 _ALSO! I realized that it's been over a WHOLE YEAR! Since I've started writing this. So many times I've wanted to quit, but I didn't because of y'all. The support has been phenomenal even when my writing was not. Thank you so much for everything y'all do. I truly appreciate it. Much love and onto the chapter!_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or ASOIAF. Never have, never will lol**._

* * *

Amirina sat across from Ned and to the right of Catelyn. The two heads were silent as death as they awaited for their food to break their fast. The Martell girl felt as though she was intruding, but Ned had invited her to break her fast with them at the feast two eves past, but the presence of the royals disturbed their wishes to do so. Ned would now be accompanying the king and some men, including Jon and Robb, on a hunt. Amirina had always wanted to go on a hunt when she was a naïve child. Now she never wished to. It was simply a bunch of men trying to see who could shoot the farthest and hit an animal. That, and Amirina was piss poor at aim with a bow.

"You shall meet Robert today," Ned said suddenly, his elbows rested upon the table and his fists bearing his lips.

Amirina gave a polite smile and nodded. "I assumed I should. Why is it he wishes to meet me, again?" He had never told her as to why the king wished to meet her. She had yet to formally meet the king during his family's visit.

"He and your mother had been close as children. Just as he has met my children, he wishes to meet her's," Ned said simply, his voice distant and his eyes trained on no one spot in particular. She nodded in acceptance and felt rather neutral about the event, but perhaps the facts behind the want soothed her slightly? But other things bothered Amirina at the moment.

"Uncle Ned," Amirina began, a tad bit squeamish, as she did not want to abruptly bring the matter up, but it was to be done, "what am I to do if you are to take the position of the King's Hand?"

Ned took in a deep breath and looked over at Catelyn. Amirina's eyes followed his and she could see the two exchanging uneasy looks. She worried for this.

He then turned back towards her and bit his knuckle for a moment, but only for a brief moment. All it took was that moment.

A servant entered before he could answer- as she had seen his mouth open slightly- and placed an assortment of foods in the middle of the table, enough for the three of them. Amirina nodded her head in thanks, as did the lady and the lord.

"Have you sent a raven to the Last Hearth yet?" Catelyn asked suddenly.

Amirina had been in the process of reaching for some fruits but stopped. Her very fingertips froze with the rest of her body. She only asked Ned of what she would do when and if he left. She didn't mean to bring up anything else. The mention of the place burned her core. Not a burning of pleasure, but a burning of pain. Memories flashed before her hazel eyes quickly and painfully. An emptiness took place in her belly. A scratching began to claw at her beating heart. But she felt as if she had no heart. Not anymore.

She swallowed heavily and retracted her arm to place her hand in her lap. "I have not."

"You should, Rina, my dear," Catelyn said matter-of-factly. Amirina looked up and saw Ned shooting a harsh look towards his wife, yet she seemed oblivious to it.

Amirina just nodded and took in a sharp breath. "I uh…I shall later during the eve." She knew why her aunt mentioned it. She just didn't want to acknowledge it. She never wanted to anymore.

Ned made eye contact with her, his dark eyes apologetic. She just waved his pity away. It was her fault. Everything in her marriage was to be placed rightfully upon her shoulders. She did not stand for herself. She left her son, merely a babe, with the Smalljon. She allowed her husband to treat her in a way that no man should. She allowed it all. She allowed herself to be weak. She knew her father would feel only disgust for her actions. She felt disgraced by herself.

"I believe I shall excuse myself, if my lord allows it, as I no longer feel hunger at the moment, " she suddenly and very politely (though strained) voiced, standing from her chair.

She didn't look into the eyes of her uncle, but she knew he nodded his head. Without another word, Amirina fled from the room, pain etching its way back into her body. A forgotten pain due only to distraction.

* * *

Amirina stood before the mare, stroking her snout lovingly. The horse had a white star marking, a contrast to her black hair covering her sleek body. The eyes of the animal seemed calm, only slightly confused however.

"Stuck, aren't you?" she asked, her thumb stroking the smooth hairs.

"I understand. I'm stuck as well. I stay in my stall. I have someone clean up my mess. I birth for the sake of continuing the line. I allowed myself to be tamed," Amirina's voice came out sadly. She was sad due to her disappointment. Her disappointment in herself and her choices. She wasn't quite sure why she hadn't fought the betrothal with the ferocity her father raised her to have. She wasn't sure why she hadn't attempted to drink moon tea so to not allow herself to conceive. Gods, she fucking despised herself. She hated that she allowed herself to live a lie for a while. She hated that she allowed herself to try and forget what had happened to her. She bore scars. Not physical, her husband wasn't that stupid. But mentally, she had some scarring. It wasn't awful, but it was there.

"Oh my dear," she cooed slightly, resting her forehead against the snout, "what have I done?"

She could hear the steady breathing through the powerful nostrils of the mare. Her arm snaked underneath the large head and did her best to support its weight. Her fingers did their best to soothe the animal, as it was most likely not used to such contact.

"My dear," she spoke quietly, "what am I to do?"

"You could perhaps cease talking to a horse for a start," a chuckle sounded from behind her. It was a voice she had recently heard. A voice she had heard multiple times before in a conversation a mere few days past.

Amirina turned and gave way to a silent gasp to the Kingslayer's presence, the man who leaned against a wooden support. He was dressed in his casuals, as no armor donned his body.

"It is rude to sneak up on an unsuspecting lady," she shot back, attitude dripping from her words but a polite smile gracing her lips nonetheless.

The Lannister man put his hands up in surrender but gave a chuckle. "Not if I see it fit to ensure the lady is alright." He then pointed to the horse and cocked his head slightly with a smirk. "I mean you are talking to a horse."

Amirina rolled her eyes. "Does no soldier speak to his horse before battle here?" In Dorne they did.

Jaime shook his head. "No. A horse is simply a means of moving closer to one's enemy. A horse will fall before any man."

Amirina scoffed and turned back to the creature, its eyes seeming to watch Jaime steadily. "My father was right, all you men of the Seven are complete imbeciles."

She then looked back at the man starting to approach her and she realized something about his dress. In the back of her mind, she prayed he ignored her foolish comment.

"You're not attending the hunt?" she asked curiously. Most men were. Why was he not?

Jaime's boots crunched with the hay beneath them as he strolled over to her. He walked neither too close nor too far away from her, leaving a comfortable amount of space between them once he stood across from her, the horse's head between them. He looked up at the beast and some appreciation flowed into his sea-green eyes, going against what he said earlier. Amirina smiled; he probably spoke to his horses before battle.

"I find no joy in hunting an animal with men who find it completely…" he paused a moment, a sick smirk twisted on his features, "enjoyable."

Amirina had to gag slightly. She knew some men got off on the adrenaline. Some to the killing of an animal. It was their mindset, their disgusting manner. She found herself agreeing with the Kingslayer.

He chuckled and placed his hand on the forelock of the horse, rubbing his thumb slightly. "But," he began, "as a member of the glorious Kingsguard, I must attend."

Rina cocked an eyebrow but nodded her head, satisfied with such an answer.

"Do you not have a horse already?" she inquired, confused as to why he was in the stables at the moment. She knew the hunting party was to leave soon and his horse he arrived on must have already been outfitted, should it not have?

He nodded his head. "Of course I do. I however heard a lone lady speaking to no man but to an animal, and the honor in my own body screamed for me to ensure you were alright." All words were spoken with a growing smirk.

"It seems you are not," he added, a glint of sarcastic mischief in his sea-green eyes.

Amirina surrendered a light chuckle and shook her head slightly. "Well I mustn't doubt that every woman must fall to your feet? You question their sanity due to your immense and incomparable chivalry and they must fall to their knees in gratitude."

The Kingslayer shrugged his shoulders, a proud look on his unbothered and older features. She knew it was true. It had to be, according to his demeanor at least. Amirina had only observed him and had a conversation of sorts with him a mere two times and she had enough to infer the kind of man he was: arrogant and proud of it. But if the rumors were true about his skills, then he had every right.

The Lannister man's face softened for a brief moment but immediately returned to its normal hard and illegible state. Amirina wondered if it was due to the sounds of approaching footsteps upon cracking hay.

Robb Stark, the boy of sixteen, nearly seventeen, stopped in his tracks and his eyes took in the situation. Amirina realized how the two might appear, yet she had nothing to hide and frankly did not seem as such, so she would not step back. She looked directly at Robb, ignoring the man on the opposite side of the horse's head.

"Rina," the Stark heir greeted, his Tully eyes placed warily upon the blond man near her, "father is waiting with the king for you before we head off."

Amirina nodded with a smile and left a goodbye pat upon the horse's cheek. Her eyes caught the near glare Robb sent the Kingslayer, one that Amirina felt entirely undeserving. Well, that was until she began walking towards Robb and felt a hand grasp onto her wrist. She felt a tug and Amirina turned around, albeit flustered by the sudden contact she had not been expecting.

"My family would" the blond King's guard paused, "-love for you to break your fast with us before our departure back towards the south. Do let us know if you shall take us up on the offer, Rina."

She could hear the slight tang of sarcasm at her nickname, knowing the man used it to simply incite a bristle on Robb's part. Amirina forced a smile, however, knowing the politeness was more forced than it had been and that she felt strangely uncomfortable when he bent down and kissed the back of her hand. The invitation to eat with them one morning settled rather unkindly with her. She felt the desire to squirm and run from him. He had not rubbed her like that in any parts of their conversation until that moment. It was the simple act of inviting her that made her uncomfortable. It was like walking into a lion's den, and she wasn't even in King's Landing. She was in a wolf's cave, yet she felt like she wasn't even safe there.

Jaime Lannister departed then, using the moment of stillness to take his leave. He gave an almost-playful smirk to Amirina and then one as well to Robb, yet as he passed the boy, their shoulders gently tapped purposefully. Jaime Lannister, Amirina was beginning to figure, never did anything without a purpose. His invitation towards her for the breaking of their fast one morning. His bump into Robb Stark. It would be a waste of time if he did.

As soon as the man was out of sight, Rina watched as Robb nearly exploded like wild fyre.

"Tha' man," his words harsh and annoyed, a lack of form to them present, "he's doin' it on purpose. I know it. He's doin' it to piss me off."

Amirina waved away Robb's concerns with a mere flick of her hand. "You mustn't be riled by his actions, dear cousin," she soothed as adeptly as she could, "they're just a matter of playing with your head. Nothing more."

She looped her arm with his once she was within comfortable distance of him, his leathers rubbing against her exposed forearm. The weather had been comfortable as of late, but the touch of cool leather and the unrest within her belly made a shiver shake through her.

"You shouldn't speak with him, Rina," Robb nearly hissed, his eyes burning ahead. His words were angry but she could hear he was reeling the harshness of his northern tongue back.

Amirina cocked an eyebrow and looked up and over at her younger cousin. "And why is that, Robb?"

"I don't trust him."

She rolled his eyes at his response. "No one does, Robb. You're acting like a child at the moment. We all know lions hide their claws until the opportune moment. Do you take me for a fool?"

The boy silenced his mouth for the rest of their brisk journey to the commotion of men and horses. Rina knew she had bested him there, for no one should ever trust a lion. In nature, cats' claws were always retracted. They never seemed to be there. That was until they were mere inches from your features trying to claw your flesh away from your muscle and bones. Amirina was older, not by much, but she was older. Her father was a Martell prince. He had had many experiences with the Lannisters. He knew about the lions. And he taught everything he knew about them to Amirina when she was a child.

He taught her that Tywin Lannister had ordered for the Mountain to rape and murder her aunt. He taught her that Cersei Lannister had known of it and told no one, as she would sit on the throne with the Targaryens gone. He taught her that Jaime Lannister had slain his king from behind and sat upon the iron throne after doing so. He taught her that Tyrion Lannister was a sneaky imp that had an uncontrollable gluttony for whores and wine.

But Amirina was no fool like some believed her to be. She knew that no man was one action or a series of actions. A man was his whole life. Tyrion Lannister was not just an imp. She had yet to meet him, but she had heard he was innately clever and knew how to wriggle his way out of a situation. Jaime Lannister was not just the Kingslayer. He was a king's guard. He was a brother. He had clever quips, and yes he had sent her into an uneasy state, but he was not merely a man who killed his king for no reason. She wasn't sure anyone would have spared King Aerys Targaryen. He was simply the one who took action.

But she still did not trust the Lannister house so long as Tywin and Cersei drew breath into their chests.

"It is not as if I trust him, dear cousin," she began to whisper, as she could see the men clamoring to gather their last minute gear for the hunt. "I enjoy conversing with entertaining individuals and I enjoy a few games here and there.

"It does not sound like you are winning," Robb spat with a quiet venom, but one that was not of hate but of worry.

She gave him a sly grin and patted his forearm. "Are those not the best kinds, young wolf?"

Amirina parted from her cousin, knowing he shook his head in her wake, and walked with her head high towards her uncle and his friend, King Robert of the Seven Kingdoms. While the conversation at their fast had soured rather quickly, she greeted her uncle with a smile as if nothing had transpired. She was getting to be quite good at ignoring things that were of importance but hurt her too much to think about.

Ned caught her eye and smiled with a soft kindness, gesturing towards the king. The rotund man looked at Ned and then turned towards Amirina. His face was ruddy and wiry hair still covered his lower jaw. She wondered how he had come to such conditions, especially after she had heard tales of his handsomeness of his youth. She wondered if he had once tried drinking himself to death. For Lyanna.

Ignoring the gathering men, Rina maneuvered the dirt upon the yard with ill grace, nearly taking a stumble more than once due to rocks, a man stepping out at any given moment or a spooked horse rearing. It was rather…distasteful for her.

She never liked how the men up north handled their steeds.

"Amirina," Ned called as she neared. He gave her a smile and pulled her into a hug, as if he had not just broken his fast with her and the Lady Catelyn only a while past. She curved an eyebrow but went along with it and hugged her uncle tightly. He truly was like a smaller bear of warmth and comfort. He was the uncle everyone desperately needed in their lives. And he was an even better father.

Suddenly, as if going to kiss the side of her head, Ned snapped Amirina from her thoughts with a quick whisper, "We shall discuss what is to happen later. Not here. Not now."

But when he pulled back, his face showed none of the urgency he had within his voice. He worried her and she felt her gut drop to her toes.

It was a rather whiplash experience, Ned's greeting was. He never forgot where he was. Amirina had. She forgot that Lannister men crawled along the courtyard's dirt and mud like starving wraiths. Amirina would place any of her prized stallions for grabs on the idea of the men willing to do anything for their queen. Not their king, no, only their queen. The Lannisters were a loyal stock to only themselves. She was positive that no wrong had been done yet, but there would be something in the near future; she could feel it in her bones.

"My King," Ned nodded towards the fat man, using proper greeting in public, "I present to you, my dear niece, Amirina Martell."

Amirina turned towards the king and smiled, giving a slight bow of her head with a curtsey. She rose without command to and watched as the older man looked at her with a scrutinizing glance. His dark eyes heavy from an early morning drink and from a pondering rolling within his head.

"Gods," he muttered, looking her over fully for an appropriate moment before quickly returning to her face. The king's face broke into a bright smile with a loud chuckle. "Ned! You told me she had her mother in her- not that she looked exactly like her."

His voice trailed off towards the end as if a memory began to dance before his mahogany eyes. Amirina failed to feel uncomfortable as many others may have. She knew he had no ill intentions towards her. She didn't think she looked like her Aunt Lyanna, and that already made her feel leagues better,

"Your mother was quite the woman, and by the gods you are the living view of her. You've got your father in your skin though," Robert said softly, a small smile upon his lips. He seemed almost sad, but also happy to see a woman who reminded him of someone he once knew. "I offer my sympathies for you, dear Rina."

Amirina smiled at the man's sincerity. He wasn't as awful as many spoke. He was simply a man who mourned a woman he had loved and never got to hold. She was sure that Cersei hated his inability to love her, that she was stuck in a loveless marriage. Amirina could understand that. While she knew that King Robert Baratheon may have been a whoring drunk, he was a good man deep down. The good man her uncle had grown to be great friends with. He was nothing like her own husband.

"Thank you, my king. It does help, however, that I failed to get to know her, so I fail to feel as if my mother of many years had died," Amirina bowed her head softly, partaking in the common curtesy in front of a king.

The man barked with laughter and tipped Amirina's head up. "Dear girl, you're family to me. Do not ever bow for me again." His words weren't scolding, but playful and light. He was pleasant.

Amirina grinned at the man and nodded her head. She went to say her goodbyes, as she knew they were needing to depart quickly. But the king beat her to the words.

"How is your viper father?" he asked suddenly, his words curious and seeking for an answer. His eyes were not malicious like the glares his queen-wife had seemed to look upon everyone with. They were kind and good-natured.

"My father is well. He has probably felt his heart leap from his chest more than once when hearing news of mine own life in the North," she slightly jested, a small, yet almost nervous, chuckle escaping her.

The older and larger man shared in her humor, clasping her shoulder a tad tightly, but she smiled despite it.

"You would do well in King's Landing, little snake," he said, his humor dying slightly. She knew the seriousness in his tone should concern her. It didn't. She would never venture to King's Landing. People would die to get their hands on her head. A Stark and a Martell. Such a rarity she was. She may be a viper, but she couldn't be thrown to the hounds in the capital, despite her venom.

Ned shot his greatest friend a strangled look, uncomfortable with the suggestion. She knew he worried greatly for her, which she was very appreciative of. And she couldn't help but feel the words of the king were an invitation. She didn't want that to turn into a command.

Quickly, Amirina tried to steer the conversation away from that. "Thank you, your grace. However, I feel as though I fare far better in the North or in Dorne. I wish you luck on your hunt."

Her tone had graced a clipped texture towards the end, but the Baratheon king did not seem to notice. He smiled at her and patted her shoulder once more before retracting his touch. A sense of ease washed over her once his touch was removed.

"Aye, I bet you do, little snake," he said with a small smile, his eyes tracing over her features quickly. She wondered if he searched for Lyanna in her features, but she pushed that ill thought from her mind. She knew it could be true, but she'd rather not think about it.

Robert turned to Ned then, an excited visage taking hold of his aging features. "We've got a hunt to get on! Where in the Seven Hells is my fucking horse?" He clapped Ned on the shoulder and began shouting things to men surrounding them about a horse and "needing to hurry before a whore came along to fuck". Amirina stifled a laugh at his vulgarity.

She then turned towards her uncle and noticed the guilt seething from him. Amirina was no fool. The king was in a far better mood than she had expected, and her uncle seemed as if he had just committed some atrocity of war. His words earlier had only increased her suspicions. He had accepted.

"You did it, didn't you?" She accused lightly, a part of her wary due to his lies. He had acted as if he had not accepted the position when they broke their fast. He didn't want her to know.

Eddard Stark took in a deep breath and nodded his head lightly. "Your aunt did not wish for you to know quite yet. She worried for your mental state. She worries for your safety once I leave. I believe she's trying to ignore the fact of the matter."

"Send a raven to The Last Hearth. Ensure that I shall stay here," she offered, her nerves beginning to stand on end.

Ned only nodded. "It is to be done when we return from the hunt. It will only be a short while before I am to leave for the south then and they will have little say as to how you shall be managed."

Amirina gave an unconscious scoff at his word choice. How she would be managed. What a damned thing to say. She was a wife and a mother and a valuable piece of property now. She seemed to forget that as of late. Now she was property and apparently, property must always be managed.

Her uncle seemed to notice her distaste for the poor word choice and offered some form of solace. "You know I do mean in terms of the situation, Rina."

She gave a brief smile and nodded her head, annoyance still tingling within her. Her uncle was a good man. She knew he meant well and he only wanted what was best for her, even if he and her father were never on the best of terms. He would never mean her any ill-will or harm.

"We shall return in a few days, Rina. You shan't worry. Everything will work out in the end, my dear. We shall discuss this further in private when I return," he comforted her quietly, placing a soft touch to her shoulder. His smile was kind yet she could see the worry in his Stark brown eyes. His words and touch were smothered under his worry then. She felt her gut begin to stir once more.

Ned gave her a nod and took his hand from her shoulder. Amirina could feel eyes upon the pair of them and it only worked to cause a queasiness to reignite.

"Go now, uncle," Amirina suddenly shifted, her voice lowered but beginning to quaver. She wanted to end the conversation quickly and to retreat into her room. Perhaps she was overthinking things. Perhaps she was becoming paranoid. Perhaps the developments of recent tidings were causing her to realize where she was. No longer was she feeling safe, and she knew it partly was due to the realizations of her uncle's new position.

Eddard smiled and nodded his head in agreement. "I shall be back in a few days. Take care Amirina. Ensure your cousins do not drive their mother mad," he chuckled at his own humor.

Amirina forced a laugh, "Of course, uncle. Ensure you bring back a stag large enough to feed the wolves."

The Stark patriarch laughed with her, unknowing to her discomfort. He gave her a large hug and detached quickly to get to his horse.

Amirina knew he would be safe. It was a mere hunting excursion. But with him gone for a few days, it still caused for her to grow anxious with the surroundings. She wasn't quite sure as to why her feelings were heightened. She was safe. She knew this to be true. Yet perhaps it was the pit in her stomach that had grown exponentially since the royal party had arrive that was causing this anxiety to form. Either way, she wasn't sure and she knew she needed to find a calm before she wore herself out.

Rina watched as her uncle walked away to go fetch his horse. Her eyes were drawn to Theon and Robb, the pair jesting with one another before they had to leave. She smiled at them and waved them a goodbye, which they returned with smiles. But Robb's was not one of the same warmth. It held a warning in it. Yet he smiled all the same.

Amirina adjusted her shoulders slightly and raised her head just enough. She knew men watched her. Many had different reasons. Some looked at her with physical interest. Some looked at her in curiosity, as she did not look as if she belonged in the north. But these looks reminded her not of previous ones. These seemed malignant. They were toxic to her and she worries greatly. Again, she was perhaps overthinking things. The talk with her uncle and Jaime Lannister had thrown her off. Of course. She was just thrown off by the way men spoke. She shouldn't have been spooked by their actions and words.

Bran quickly ran past her with his direwolf, Summer, breaking her thoughts. She was pushed back lightly and Amirina reached out in enough time to grab the boy by his shirt sleeve. He gave a grunt at the whipping back against his running and Summer quickly turned around to see who had grabbed little Bran Stark.

"And where do you think you're goin', Bran?" Amirina questioned, her voice with a faux interrogating tone.

The boy had a sheepish grin on his young face and Amirina couldn't help but chuckle. "I was goin' to go climb to see father leave."

"Did your mother not tell you to stop, little wolf?"

She knew she was just giving the boy a hard time, but it helped to distract her mind.

"Yes, but she knew I will not, so I think it is okay?"

Amirina rolled her eyes at the boy's logic but nodded her head. "Well alright, little wolf. Ensure you are careful and return before it is time for your midday meal. Your mother might have a fit if you fail to do so."

She had released Bran by this time and he gave her a bright and toothy smile. "I will! I promise."

Amirina ruffled his hair quickly and gave him a grin to match his. "Ensure your mother does not know I allowed for you to go," she warned, knowing Catelyn would be less than pleased if she found Amirina approved.

The boy nodded his head vigorously and gave Amirina a large hug. She patted him slightly and then shooed him so he might get his climbing done quicker. Bran began to run and Amirina realized something.

"Bran!" she called out.

The Stark boy turned quickly, curiosity covering his young features.

"Ensure you take Summer with you," she said, eyeing the faithful direwolf, "and watch your footing."

Bran Stark nodded his head and called for Summer to follow him, the pair running off to one of the many towers within Winterfell's walls.

Amirina smiled after the boy and continued on walking, unaware of what she had just allowed.

* * *

 _ **A/N** : God this took forever to get out. Thank you all for being so patient. I took some creative liberties and hope y'all enjoyed it. It wasn't my best chapter but I still liked parts of it. Thank you and the next chapter should be out much sooner!_

 _Love,_

 _P_

 _ **HPuni101** \- Thank you for the continued support! It always makes me smile to see your reviews! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and more Lannister interaction._

 _ **Guest** \- Who knows? Perhaps she will, perhaps she won't? Thank you!_

 _ **Anna.B** \- Thank you so much for everything you wrote love! I can't answer all of the things addressed haha, but I hope to only continue to see you as interested in this story as you are now. Thank you so much again and can't wait to see more of your reviews!_

 _ **monkeybaby** \- Thank you dear!_

 _ **Arianna Le Fay** \- I know dear, it's not fair to our dear Amirina. But we saw how Cersei got stuck. We saw how Margaery got stuck. It's all a matter of how politics will play out! Thank you!_

 _ **CWG967** \- Thank you dear!_

 _ **SternAmBauch** \- Thank you so much! I really appreciated it. It definitely brightened my day and I'm glad you enjoy my writing! Hope you continue to do so! Your reviews were great to read and I can only hope you've enjoyed this story as much as it seems! Thank you again!_


	22. Chapter 22

_**A/N:** Thank you all for the continued support! Hope you enjoy this one. It might rip at your heart a little bit. I hope it does at least. Love y'all! :)_

 _Happy New Year and happy (late) holidays!_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own GOT or ASOIAF obviously. Ya know the drill.**_

* * *

How truly incompetent was she? Was she as stupid as a hog that had already been slaughtered? Was her mind considered like that of soup? Because, apparently, those things must be true. It was all her fault and she had no one but herself and her stupidity to blame.

Bran had fallen.

He wasn't waking.

And she had been the one to let him go.

She wondered if urging him to move quickly in his climbing had triggered the fall. Perhaps he had held up on his promise and truly wanted to get back quickly. Perhaps that had caused him to grow distracted and he slipped. Perhaps he was moving too fast and he missed a holding. Either way, now he was lying in his bed, furs covering his seemingly peaceful body.

It had been quite some time apparently since his fall. Amirina had lost track of such a thing due to her tedious routine. She would wake every morn, find something to eat, go to Bran and sit by him until Catelyn was ready to watch, she would then go to the garden house and pick an array of beautiful flowers and arrange them in a vase for Bran. Then she would go back until she felt hungry once more. She was in a state of limbo that people questioned. They understood Catelyn's routine, but not Amirina's. They did not understand her guilt, as no one knew of it. So she would allow them to whisper about her, simply because they knew no better.

She had to guess it had been nearly a fortnight since his fall. Time seemed useless to keep track of once she saw the guard carrying a limp Bran with Summer trailing worriedly behind. Catelyn had been an absolute mess. Amirina had had to keep her from collapsing by supporting her weight for her. She had told the guard to rush them to Bran's chambers, fetch Maester Luwin, and then proceed to try and catch the hunting party to notify Ned. All of this had been done on instinct. She had wanted nothing more than to collapse beside Catelyn and cry with her. They did not know if he was dead or not in that moment, but he had appeared so and that made it all the worse.

The maester was able to let them know that Bran would live. He may never wake again, nor walk, but he would live and that was all that mattered to anyone. It was after that that Amirina had taken charge of notifying the family within the walls. Sansa had gone first since she was the eldest. The poor fiery-haired girl seemed to dull at the news and she immediately stormed off to her room in anger. Arya had gone next. She was difficult to contain, but Amirina had managed. Then little Rickon. The child didn't understand whatsoever and simply thought Bran was taking a long sleep. It was easier that way. Once that was done, she was allowed to weep.

Since then, she had kept up her routine. She regularly avoided everyone and everything, the guilt trying its best to consume her. Her uncle had failed to send a raven with her to The Last Hearth. So not only was guilt holing within her, but so was selfish fear. But she knew her uncle would do so before he left. She believed that to be soon, but she couldn't have been for sure. Her emotions were too much for her to keep track.

Such emotions had kept her hidden far from Robb and Jon. She couldn't look at them. She couldn't look at their grief-stricken faces knowing she was partly responsible. It ached violently underneath her breast and had now become a gentle throb that bothered her greatly. She had not seen either since they left for the hunt. Perhaps they resented her for it. Perhaps they didn't. She was not keen to figure such a thing out.

"Amirina," an older voice called out, "you've grown pale?"

The Martell did not stir from her place but she swiped a hair from Bran's brow. "Yes. That occurs once one does not travel out into the sun often," she replied with sarcasm to spare. She knew it was unwarranted, but she could care less if the maester felt offended by her and her statements.

Luwin sighed and she could hear him set down a tray, most likely that of drinks he could try to get Bran to drink. The boy was conscious enough to be able to drink. Soups were to be started soon, but water and teas were all Luwin dared give him for the moment.

His footsteps were prominent against the silence of the room, save for Summer's small snores and Bran's breathing. Amirina could not hear herself draw breath. She jerked slightly when she felt the cool dorsal of the hand of the maester of Winterfell press against her forehead. She stilled herself however, knowing it would just be easier for both of them. The man shook his head and sighed heavily.

"Have you been eating?" he asked quietly.

Amirina nodded her head. Of course she had been eating. Not as much, but she was still eating and she rarely felt hungry. The guilt within her belly satisfied that hunger often. She wasn't eating the same as she had been, but she was still getting the proper foods within her. Or so she thought of course. She was no grand maester of health, she wouldn't know any better.

"How much have you been sleeping?" he then concertedly inquired.

Rina shrugged in indifference. She did not care to take count of her sleep. She knew she slept. It was restless and difficult to stay within the grasps of, but she slept and that was all that mattered. "Enough."

"Enough is not truly that, Amirina. You will be forced from this room if you can not take care of yourself."

Amirina finally looked over at the older man and nodded. She knew there was no point in fighting his decision and she knew that he would inform Ned and Cat of such a threat. She was not foolish enough to challenge his orders when concerning health.

"I'll allow you to stay today, as Robb is busy with your aunt and uncle, preparing for your uncle's departure," he did however concede. In a way, Amirina was thankful her family was busy and that she would not be forced to leave just yet. She needed some more time with Bran and Summer. Just more time to allow herself to think clearly enough and figure out some things.

"Thank you," she said quietly as she turned back to the boy who laid unmoving. She reached over and swiped a stray hair from over his forehead. It seemed as though she had done that too many times. Perhaps she had. Perhaps she had not. Things had become repetitive. Things were still meshing together.

In fact, she wasn't quite sure if she heard the maester leave. She knew how to take care of Bran with feeding him. She had done it many times before. As each meal passed, and as she tried to get teas and water down his throat, she could feel the guilt continue to slide down through her lips and into her belly.

* * *

Jon could feel the guilt bubbling in his belly.

He wasn't sure how he could fix the situation.

He wasn't sure what he would do to mend the future.

All he was sure about was that Amirina was going to hate him. And his guilt was gnawing away at him.

Everyone else knew he was to leave. Lady Catelyn had seemed almost ecstatic when he and his Uncle Benjen informed her and Ned of his decision to go take the black. His father seemed less than pleased, but appeared as supportive as he could be. Jon had appreciated it.

Robb had taken it better than expected. He had stayed quiet for a moment but nodded his head in acceptance. He had clasped his shoulder and his smile had seemed no less than forced. But he smiled all the same and failed to berate or yell at him for his decision. Robb had let him feel like he made the right decision.

But once he told Arya, it all came crashing down again. Her eyes had narrowed and she had accused him of abandoning them. Jon wasn't one for confrontation and simply stood there, waiting for her to cry out in anger more. He hadn't known what to do to fix it. She would want him to stay, but he couldn't. It would've been the only way to fix it. But he couldn't, no matter how much it broke his heart. He had betrayed her in a way, making him feel worse than he already was. Thankfully, she had been too tired to continue her ranting and she left him without another word.

Sansa has been just as easy as Catelyn. She seemed disappointed he would be leaving, but she seemed elated at the same time. It hurt him slightly but he was glad to hear a simple "I'll miss you". She had treated him poorly at times, just like her mother, but she still loved him and he knew that.

Rickon was simple as well. He barely understood that Jon would be gone for a very, very long time. But he knew he was leaving. The young boy took it as if Jon would be back soon. It wasn't true at all, but the Snow found that it was much easier that way than any other.

He had yet to inform two other people: Bran and Amirina.

Bran was going to be difficult for Jon. The Stark boy was in a coma due to a fall he had from climbing. He was not responding to outside stimuli and he had failed to wake up in a fortnight. Catelyn has stayed vigilant by his bed side, Amirina accompanying her. The two had been scarce in the walls of Winterfell's keep. They seemed to be ghost floating painfully through the stone arches.

Jon and his Uncle Benjen had discussed everything with Luwin, his father and Catelyn before Bran's fall. The royal family was supposed to leave a fortnight after the hunt, taking Ned and Jon and Benjen with them. However, Bran's fall and subsequent coma had halted everything. Out of respect, everyone agreed to wait and give the proper grieving time of a fortnight afterwards. Jon knew it would be time in only a matter of days for him to leave with his uncle and go take the Black.

Yet he still had two people to inform.

Jon Snow was not the most socially adept human being. He was still a child in the eyes of elders. He was insufficient in the eyes of many. He wasn't the best in some situations. But he did try to be. But now, he was left wondering how in the hells he was supposed to confront this situation. He knew he would say his goodbye to Bran on the day he was due to leave. But he couldn't do that to Amirina. Not his best friend. He needed to let her know of his decision. It was only fair after everything she had done for him all those years. It was only fair to tell her he would be leaving and potentially…never seeing her again.

* * *

Amirina had taken heed of Luwin's words. She knew he would hold true on his words if she did not adhere to his conditions. She presumed it was fair and she could not argue with that. It was fine, she would tell herself. It would all be fine.

Catelyn had come in and Amirina used that as her time to go and clean herself up. If she wanted Luwin to believe she was taking good care of herself, she needed to look a bit more presentable. So, she had gone back to her room and ordered for a hot bath. Perhaps the water had been too hot, just as the handmaiden had informed her, as her skin still held a red pigment to it. She hadn't really felt the burn of the heat, however, as the water had been soothing to her aching and loathing muscles and flesh. It had warmed her to a dull lull and she had felt her eyes closing multiple times for prolonged periods. She had nearly completely fallen asleep but the handmaiden (who's name she had easily forgotten) found her beginning to drift off and woke her. She had recommended changing into a tight dress if she wished to remain awake, or a loose fitting coat-like dress that would have comforted her into a blissful rest. Amirina had chosen the tighter dress. Not only would it keep her awake, but perhaps she would look more lively than she had been if anyone were to by chance catch her.

The dress was plain. It wasn't too tight or too loose. It was a simple corset tie in the back with light fur lining the inside beneath a pale blue fabric. It was warm enough to wear inside and she could always procure furs to wear if she were to head outside. But the weather had been kinder the past few days, which she thought to be ironic considering the situation within Winterfell, so she doubted she would need anything else to keep her warm.

Her hair was tied back from the top sides, allowing the rest of her dark mane to flow across her shoulders and back. She had noticed her hair was growing quite dry on the ends and while she wondered if it was due to her poor maintenance of it, she knew she would need someone to assist her in caring for it sooner rather than later.

Amirina sat on the foot of her bed for a few more moments, relishing the feeling of relaxation. She knew her guilt and fear and sadness would return, but for the moment, she was able to just breathe deeply and let her sense numb a bit to the outside world. She was more than okay with that if she were to be completely honest.

But the fates would not have that; a knock rang out upon the dark oak that was her door.

Amirina looked at the dividing factor with minor disdain and sighed deeply. For just a moment, though selfish in want, she wished for a moment's reprieve. But she could not have even that. And she wondered if it was due to her role in Bran's suffering, though indirect as it was.

"Come in," she called out, her voice tired and slightly annoyed.

The door opened and Amirina didn't even look up to catch who it was until after she had stood from her bed. When she did however, her blood ran quickly into ice within her veins.

Jon stood there in her chambers, his face solemn. "It's been some time, Rina."

Amirina stood still and stayed quiet for a moment. She had done so well as to avoiding Jon and Robb. She had ensured she would allow herself time to adjust to the guilt. She had after all, been partially responsible for the events that had unfolded. If only she had not let Bran go…

"Yes." It was all she could manage with the lump lodged within her throat.

Jon cleared his throat, shuffling slightly where he stood. She could tell he seemed to want to be there just as little as she wanted him there. Neither seemed to want to be in the same room or talking, yet here they were.

"Do you need something, Jon? I promised Aunt Cat that I would be back shortly to watch over Bran," she said quietly, her eyes wavering towards the ground. The guilt continued to knot in her belly and nip at the back of her mind. He wouldn't be there if she had told him no.

Amirina could hear the bastard Snow sigh and swallow hard. She wondered if he knew. If he knew she had allowed this to happen. She hadn't caused it, but she might as well have just pushed him off of the tower.

"Amirina?" Jon asked, his voice seeming far away for a moment.

The Martell girl looked up suddenly, her eyes wide and confused. Only for a moment however. She realized she had spaced for a few seconds, enough to miss what her cousin had said.

"I apologize," she muttered quickly. Rina turned towards the bed and grabbed her fur, looking as if she was about to dart away from the entirety that was turning tense quickly. "I need to get to Bran. Excuse me, Jon."

She tried to slide deftly past him, but it seemed that he had a reason to be there, as he reached out and gripped her bicep lightly. For a moment, a memory of her husband flashed by, as he grabbed her bicep a many times before but in a manner that meant she wouldn't be leaving his room that evening. It made her scrunch her nose in anger and disgust, and slightly fear. But she let none of the feelings she had change her actions or features.

"I need to say something, Rina," Jon said quietly, his eyes avoiding looking at her.

Amirina sighed and stepped back, letting his hand fall from her arm. She knew that he would be more likely to let her leave quickly if he said his piece, despite how uncomfortable she was feeling at the moment. "Be quick. I am required by your brother's side."

Jon took a deep breath, hesitance obvious as his chest stuttered for a moment. She wondered if he knew. If he knew that she had allowed Bran to go climbing. Perhaps he was confronting her? He had no other reason to be there truly. What else could he possibly have to tell her? She knew Arya, Sansa and her uncle were leaving soon. Perhaps her uncle needed her and he sent Jon to retrieve her? Perhaps something had developed with the royal family? Perhaps Jon missed their friendship and simply wanted to try to convince her to exit Bran's room every once in a while-

"I'm leaving for the Wall."

Her train of thought immediately shut down.

He was doing what?

"I leave when father leaves."

Jon Snow was going to the fucking Wall? He was to leave everything behind so shortly, in only a matter of days?

"I beg your pardon?" Her vision had gone hazy, unfocused on anything except for his words.

She couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. She would lose it upon him and draw his sword. Anger was flaring in her blood and she could feel her body grow hot. Hotter than the tended-to embers in the hearth. He had to be fooling with her. He had to be. No man WILLINGLY went to the Wall. It was plain and simple; it was a place of miscreants and bad men. Jon Snow was a good boy who had a large but unwanted heart. Perhaps she was overreacting. Her Uncle Benjen was there, and he had taken the Black. Perhaps Jon just wanted to visit?

"I will take the Black with Uncle Benjen."

No, he was serious. As serious as a damn stab to the heart. He wanted to leave Winterfell. He wanted to leave his family, his siblings, her? He wanted to leave everything he knew. And Amirina felt betrayed by this.

She finally looked up at him, her burning eyes finally taking in the expression of guilt that laid waste to his face. Good, she thought, let the guilt ruin him.

"You," she started, her breathing deep as to control her words, "would leave…everything you knew, all to take the fucking Black?"

Her heart began to suffer. Her cousin. Her best friend. Her…she shook her head at that. That was gone. Gone when she had left for the Last Hearth. She wasn't foolish anymore. But her heart began to ache. It was burying deeper into her chest and pressing against her back. Her lungs felt as though they should collapse at any second, her breathing trying to steady the wave trying to crush her. She wanted the hurting to cease to exist.

"You want to leave everything you've known behind for what?" she shakily questioned, her arms wrapping around herself as she took a step back and turned around. She wasn't sure why she felt as if her body would fall apart should her arms leave her waist.

She could hear Jon shuffling slightly and taking a breath to steel himself. "I have no future here, Rina. I have no need to stay. No reason for me to be here if there is nothing here for me firstly."

Rina felt the words slap her violently across the cheek. Nothing here? Did his family not fucking matter? Did she not matter? What then had been the point of all of those times they spent as best friends? She realized that they must have meant nothing to him.

Amirina turned around and quickly stormed over to him, slapping him across the face all in a matter of seconds. "How dare you say there is nothing here for you. You're fucking selfish Jon Snow. Your damned brother could die at any moment or never wake or wake up and be forever bound to a chair! But you say there's nothing fucking here for ya?

"I am to stay here until my husband drags me back to hell. Does that mean I mean nothing to ya? Your brother is to watch over Winterfell in your father's absence and I'm sure he could damn well use a brother to help out. Does that mean your brother means nothing to ya? You've got two younger brothers who look up to you. What is bran going to think if he wakes up and you're gone along with Arya and Sansa and Ned? How is Rickon going to try to comprehend that you're leaving and potentially never coming back? They're going to feel like they meant nothing to you. That is what you incur when you take the Black."

He stood still for a moment, absorbing the harsh words she threw at him after she had slapped him. Amirina didn't care if she had hurt him. He was being selfish to the point of hurting others. Gods did he not care?

"Everyone already knows, Rina. I've received the blessings of everyone," he said quietly and hesitantly, as if expecting her to slap him again.

She wanted to too. She wanted to pummel him and take him into the training ring. She wanted to beat him until he changed his mind. But that anger was overshadowed by betrayal and hurt.

Amirina stepped back a moment and wasn't quite sure what to do. "You already told everyone?"

Jon took a deep breath and reached up to rub the back of his neck. He didn't need to tell her. His actions spoke volumes to her. She was the last one to be informed. She wondered if he would have even told her before he left.

She put a hand in the air, to cut him off from speaking again. "I-I don't want to hear the excuses, Jon. I've got to be with your brother."

Amirina didn't care to look back to him to see his face. She didn't care to think about why he would think it right for him to leave them all. She probably knew why. She just didn't want to accept it. She didn't want her best friend to leave her. Deep in her heart, she still felt that thing that had been pushed away some time ago. She felt her heart breaking. Not only because he would leave and she would potentially never see him again, but because he felt it necessary for him to leave. That he thought he had nothing in Winterfell. That he thought he was alone. It meant she had failed him as a cousin and as a friend. And it broke her heart.

Amirina didn't care that he was still in her room, standing alone. Leaving him in a way that she knew he didn't want to be left in. But she didn't want him to leave her alone. She knew she wasn't going to be alone. But she'd be losing people already. She didn't want to lose anymore. Despite being angry for his selfishness, she knew that she was holding a double standard. She couldn't hate him. She truly couldn't. But she hated herself. She hated that she had blown up on him like a mother and a child. She hated that she had left him alone. And now, she wasn't quite sure she could even face him. The guilt from Bran and the moments past were piling on top of one another to the point where she wanted to collapse and simply cry.

She wanted nothing more than to cry at the moment. Everyone was leaving. It wasn't supposed to be this way. She was supposed to stay in Winterfell with her aunt and uncle and cousins. She was supposed to be safe behind the dark and tall walls of the keep. She was supposed to be surrounded by wolves. Now? She would have a pack of two wolves and a pup. Her uncle would travel south with the lions, with his two daughters. Amirina knew she would be prime for the taking for her husband. He could call her back home and she would have to heed the call to avoid any conflict between the Starks and Umbers. Her father still sat in Dorne, probably angrier than any god could ever be with her. She could not return even if she wanted to, her husband would not allow her. The Greatjon Umber wanted her head for "killing" a guard and she could never speak the whole truth on that, as she would be hung for treason.

Amirina was now a sitting duck, waiting to be torn down by the monsters of the deep.

* * *

Jon stood silently in Amirina's room. His hands hung limp beside him and he felt his head falling forward slightly. His heart was burning. Burning far greater than any fire a dragon could conjure. His cheek still stung from the venom of Rina's slap. Yet, with all of this, he felt numb.

It was the only way to describe the way his body had gone static. There was no feeling from the furs in his clothing. There was no feeling of the cold air upon his exposed skin. There was no feeling of emotion within his body. He was simply…there. The only things he felt had come from his cousin. The slap and the absolute disappointment and betrayal she had casted out upon him.

In a way, he understood. Sadly, he understood. He was leaving everyone and everything he knew to go serve a life sentence…willingly. Jon believed that the majority of the Night's Watch were men of strength and pride, as one needed those in abundance if they were to survive the Wall. He knew he would be somebody there. Something he was not in Winterfell. He would no longer be just Ned Stark's Bastard. He would be Jon Snow. That was what he wanted. Was it selfish? Perhaps. But it was what he deemed acceptable seeing the torment he's had to spend his life living. It was time for a change. A change for him.

But what Amirina said still bothered him greatly. He knew she didn't say it just to take out her anger upon him. He knew she said it because she spoke truth. He knew that everyone (except for Cat) would feel pain for his departure. Robb would feel the loss of a brother. As well as Rickon and Bran. Sansa and Arya were leaving anyways, so he couldn't do much about that. His father seemed only resigned to anything at the moment. He was sure the Stark leader did not want to be helping King Robert to run his kingdom, but it was what was expected of him and he had to do it. Jon was doing something that wasn't expected of him, so he knew it would be a choice of free will and want.

But despite realizing this, he still felt unsettled. Perhaps it was due to the fact that Amirina reacted in a way he had not expected. He thought she would be angry and hurt, but he thought she would be rational. She was all but the latter. He knew that Bran's fall was taking an unforeseen toll upon her, which he wondered why she would feel such a way. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she was quiet close to Bran and Rickon, and had a son of her own, so her tendencies towards being a mother were amplified like Catelyn's. But she had also mentioned her husband 'dragging her back to hell'. He wondered if she was stressed with the situation between her and her husband, the Smalljon Umber. He knew somewhat of what he had done to her. She had explained it all briefly one eve when she had arrived back in Winterfell. But she had never told him why she had returned. Not truly. He wondered if his father was protecting her from something…or someone.

Jon then realized why she was so betrayed. She felt like at one point she had everyone, and now, she would have no one. Her family, the ones who were supposed to protect her, were leaving now. She was going to feel exposed, despite having Robb and Catelyn and Theon. She wouldn't have everyone like she thought she would. Once again, Lannisters (and Baratheons) were stealing away parts of her family. Yet, here Jon was; he was willingly leaving. Ned had no choice and was forced to bring the girls along with him. But Jon? Jon was leaving on his own accord because he wanted to. Because he didn't feel wanted.

A weight dropped into his gut when he realized the extent of his past words. He had spoken like no one mattered. He had spoken like no one had tried. But Amirina had always been the one to try. She had always been the one to comfort him when he needed a friend. She had always been the one to lend him a shoulder should he need it. And he just spoke as if none of those things mattered.

His cheek began to sting once more. Time had passed but the realization of his betrayal had not. He had hurt his best friends. Robb and Amirina had felt it the most. Robb had done far better to conceal it, but he had probably still felt it. Amirina had not done well at all, but she felt it all the same. And there Jon was, acting as if his decision would hold no consequences. But it did. It held many. He had just been blinded by the selfish want to be more than just a bastard.

He hadn't taken into account those who actually saw him as Jon Snow. Not as Ned Stark's rebellion bastard son.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Shorter chapter, a filler really. But important all the same for relationships and characters. Next chapter will come out much quicker. Hope y'all enjoyed!_

 _ **CWG967** \- Thank you for the constant support love, it's always appreciated :)_

 _ **Teachtaire** \- ahhh sadly Willas won't be the main LI, but will there really? Don't worry, Willas will become important later on ;) hope you enjoyed!_


	23. Chapter 23

_**A/N:** Wow_

 _My brief thoughts on season 8: I enjoyed it, but wish it had been 3 seasons more. It needed more episodes at least. But I'm pleased with how it ended, seeing as GRRM said the endings would be the same (save for some secondary characters). If anyone wants to discuss it more, my PMs are open! Had to change my outline just a bit, so this chapter took longer, though I think everyone who roots for Amirina will be pleased with the events of this chapter._

 _Thank you for your patience and support, I apologize for the wait!_

 _Also! It's been a few days past the official 2 year anniversary of this story!_

 _ **Disclaimer: Don't own anything still except for Amirina and Katerina.**_

* * *

 _Amirina wasn't quite sure where she was. The wind was harsh and bit her skin as it whipped around, thrashing like an insolent child. Her eyes needed a moment to adjust to the scene before her, as the wind stung her eyes and carried snow with it. She reached a hand to cover the top of her eyes, laying at rest upon her brows. She thought that perhaps she'd be able to decipher the landscape if she could deflect some of the harsh weather._

 _In all honesty, Amirina had not been in such a climate before. Yes, she had seen snow and seen the cold. However, she had not seen such traitorous a climate before. The thick snow beneath her was betrayed by the chill it caused her feet to endure. She wondered then how she was clothed, as the last thing she remembered was being in Winterfell next to Bran. How had she gotten here?_

 _Amirina decided to look down and was surprised to see boots supporting her feet. Fur stuck out of the top of them and beneath the bonds that kept them together. She then guessed that the rest of her body was clothed similarly. The warmth of gloves then began to register in her mind, as one had was pressed to her brows. She didn't bother checking, as she didn't want to risk more snow getting into her eyes. Despite the weather, she felt warm._

 _The wind was whistling in her ears, and she thought for a moment that a song was being whispered next to her. She knew this to not be true, but there was a tone of beauty to the natural elements that would have fit a small song. Sadly however, she was alone. Alone with her own whimsical thoughts._

 _Amirina wasn't sure if she should begin to move. Everything in front of her was white, as well as to her right left and behind her. It was merely a blurred image. Perhaps she had seen a mountain range here or there, but she couldn't be for certain. Everything was warping around her with each hiss of the air and she felt herself slowly become disoriented._

 _What was north? What was south? What was east or west? She was so turned around. However, was she even turned around in the first place? Was she somewhere? Or was she nowhere? Gods, she wasn't sure anymore._

 _Not even a moment later, she saw a figure begin to form in the distance. If she squinted her eyes hard enough, she could see a dark figure through the blizzard whipping around her. Amirina knew they had to be close. They had to be if she was able to see their outline through the thick snow. She began waving her arms wildly, hoping the person could see her. Maybe they'd come tell her where she was. Maybe they'd help her._

 _"Hello!" she called out, her voice reaching as high as it could. "Hello! Please! I could use some help!" Her cries however didn't seem to hasten any movements. The figure looked as if it was coming closer, yes, but it looked slow. The outline shifted between the gusts of wind and ice and snow, indicating some form of movement. She wanted to scream in frustration at how slow they were moving. Surely they could see her distress?_

 _Huffing in frustration, Amirina threw her arms down and decided to take a step forward. If they wouldn't come in a timely manner, she would meet them halfway. However, when her muscles began contracting to pull up her left foot, she realized it wouldn't budge. Amirina furrowed her brows and suddenly looked down. It had seemed that only moments earlier that she could see her feet covered in boots. But now? Snow and ice were swallowing up to her ankles._

 _"What in the hells..." she muttered under her breath. She began trying to yank her foot out of the ground, frustration and fear building up within her. She hadn't been standing for that long. That kinda of snow buildup would take hours. She had only been there for a few minutes. She had to have been._

 _Amirina threw her head up to try and see the figure. Perhaps they could help her. Her dark eyes searched in front of her and saw the figure was closer, but still so far from her. They needed to hurry. The cold from the ice and snow was starting to burn through the furs covering her feet and she feared for her appendages._

 _"It appears I've sunken through! Do hurry please!" she called out, anxiety peering like a bird through her voice._

 _When she looked down, the snow had eaten up to her thighs. No movement was visible from her legs._

 _She began rapidly trying to dig at the snow, her heart rate beginning to rise rapidly. As she dug around her thighs, snow would fall back to replace any that was excavated. Grunts escaped her as her movements became frantic. The cold began biting fiercely._

 _Her head flew up as she could finally begin to hear snow crunching under the sound of the wind. Amirina saw the figure was much closer. No features were distinguishable, but she could tell they were tall. Possibly strong enough to help her out._

 _"Do hurry! The snow, it's-"_

 _She had gone to motion down to her legs but realized her arms just hit a solid layer of snow. Horror struck her quickly as she looked down. The snow had buried her up to her arm pits. This time however, she felt her body sinking. Sinking._

 _Amirina's eyes widened and she felt a jolt run through her body. She needed to get out of this. Whatever the hells this was._

 _"Please," she began to cry out, fear running rampant in her body. It was no longer contained to her gut, but it was beginning to choke her._

 _The wind started to slash at her face violently, tears forcing themselves up and out of her squinting eyes. She felt the snow finally begin to crawl up her skin, swallowing her even more. She felt the cold substance prick each nerve under her skin and she felt the rush of wanting to flee bolt through her system._

 _"Please-" she looked up, sending that something had placed themselves in her vision. They had been boots, much like the ones she had earlier. She wondered who it had been, despite the panic running through her. Her eyes traveled up with curiosity and she felt her heart stop._

 _Bran stood above her, his features crawling with a blue death._

 _" Bran?" _

_And suddenly, the snow had pulled her under with its strong grasp and air was no longer available to her_.

Amirina sat up quickly, her heart racing and a cold sweat sticking to the back of her neck. She could feel her hair knotting and matting from the bodily fluid. But she could really care less.

Her eyes were wide and her pupils seemed to swallow the color that normally took place in her orbs. She was looking down at Bran, his face peaceful, like he hadn't been in a coma for quite some time and was merely sleeping. His face was different than that from her dream. Or more like, nightmare. And as her eyes traveled down, she realized her hand was on top of one of his. She quickly retracted it and pushed away from the bed.

What in the seven hells had fucking happened?

She wanted away from the room and from her cousin as quickly as possible. She wanted a cold bath and to sit by herself. She wanted no one to look at her nor touch her. She wanted to just forget what the hell she had dreamt.

Amirina stood from the chair and ran a hand through her damp hair. She needed to get out of there…now.

She quickly gathered her skirts and moved towards the wooden door, her hand reaching towards the circular handle. Rina yanked it harshly and exited the room without a second thought. Catelyn would be there shortly, she knew she would. Bran wouldn't pass on within the next few minutes. He had been improving, at least Maester Luwin said so. He would be fine if left alone for a little while. Or Amirina thought so at least.

Amirina quickly picked up her pace, not yet running but not fully walking. She just wanted to get to her chambers. She wanted to be alone. Alone was good. Was it not? She should be alone. Then it would give her time to think. She could process her dream. Yes, that was it. She could process her dream and then perhaps rationalize that it was a mere fluke and a silly little nightmare from the stories Old Nan used to read when she was sometimes around. Gods, she was just being a silly girl. Why did she react so harshly? Perhaps she needed to go back, go check on Bran until Catelyn got back-

Amirina suddenly bumped into someone, a grunt escaping both her and the unfortunate person.

"Gods, I'm sorry, I wasn't even aware of where I was walking and I-"

The person turned around and gave a chuckle. More specifically, Jaime Lannister turned around and gave a chuckle.

"It's more than alright," he said calmly, adjusted his tunic accordingly. "I often find women lose track of their surroundings when near me."

Amirina couldn't help but roll her eyes. Of course he would make such a comment.

"Well, it was lovely to run in to you," she laughed nervously, attempting to slide around him, "but I really must be going."

Amirina managed to slip to the front of him but he quickly grabbed her arm. It was a move she was beginning to tire of.

"Do make yourself available on the morrow's morn before we set off? My family would…love to make your acquaintance," he more than offered. It felt less like an invitation and more a royal order. His sister was the damned queen, everything was a royal order for her, so of course she would have to go.

Amirina gave the blond man a forced smile. "Of course. It'd be an honor. Now, I really must be going...again. I do apologize."

She pulled her arm from his grip, a faux smile on her lips at all times. He let go, his fingers splaying dramatically for a moment. She hadn't really pulled too hard, but she was beginning to see these Lannisters and royals had a flair of dramatics. He gave her a small smirk and bowed lightly.

He was growing on her nerves.

"It was lovely to see you, Rina."

Amirina nodded her head and turned to continue walking. The back of her mind nagged at her. He couldn't be her father, he simply couldn't. How in the hells could he be if she was the way she was and he was the way he was. She rolled her eyes. He potentially may have had an affair with her mother. She didn't care. So long as she did not share the same blood as him. She'd never encourage people to call him a kingslayer and he could be somewhat charming. But gods was he beginning to test her patience.

Amirina sighed and her pace slowed. The conversation with the Lannister had distracted her, as much as she had wanted to leave his presence, it had proven to be a breather for a moment. She needed to get these silly dreams out of her head. She needed to just take a few deep breaths. Those dreams she had some time ago? Mere fever dreams. An overactive imagination. The dream she was just trapped in? Another mishap of imagination. It was so incredibly foolish of her to think in such a way. Her father would be hitting the backs of her knees with his spear had he ever seen her like such.

The Martell girl took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her feet began to stop treading the stones below her and she placed a hand to a wall next to her in the halls. What was she thinking? Why was she here? Here she was worrying over Bran, her cousin of course, but still, he had a mother. Amirina was a mother. Yes, she had never seen her son except for when he left her belly, but she still had a son. A boy. Gods, how long had it been since she had seen him? How many moons was he now? She couldn't even remember his name day. Her own damned son.

A sob suddenly ripped through her, escaping like a cough from her lips. Why was she doing this? Hiding like a coward. Why did she not fight leaving? Why did she let her own husband send her away? She supposed her safety was at stake at that point, but why? When did she become so weak, so foolish? Why in the hells had she allowed herself to be put in such a position?

The moment of clarity was stolen by the reality of it all then: she allowed herself to open her heart. The heart that was open to all of her cousins and father and uncles and aunt and the people she had known and met. The heart that allowed her to believe the Smalljon wasn't horrible. The heart that allowed her to believe she would be treated like a lady, a princess even. The heart that allowed her to love a boy not yet born. The heart that allowed her to tumble for a wildling, who was now most likely dead. She knew she had only taken fancy in him because of her situation. He had been a help, a rather good distraction too. But she was Amirina Martell. She was no shieldmaiden that fell for a wildling from beyond the wall. She had been foolish to let herself get caught up in a fantasy.

Amirina ran a hand over her face and the vibrations coming from her body collapsing within itself, shook her. Why had she kept all of this in for so long? What was she to accomplish from that? Absolutely nothing, she had to remind herself. She had done nothing but push people away because of how she acted. Her feelings were destroying her from the inside out. She was allowing herself to become a mere skeleton of who she once was. For fuck's sake, she was Princess Amirina Martell. She was no broodmare. She was no Umber bitch. She was a Martell and a Stark. And despite trying to tell herself that multiple times, it felt like it was finally beginning to register again. Her pain was real, and that was okay.

Pain would not further her if it wasn't realer than the wind.

And gods did her heart ache and stab at her. Almost everyone was leaving. Her safety was at risk, she would not lie. She feared for certain events that could come to pass. Of course, her husband's father could demand retribution for her "killing" the guard. Perhaps, Ned would send a raven. He could explain the man was about to rape her and she was under the Warden of the North's protection. She could go back and be safe due to Ned's orders. House Umber was loyal to Eddard Stark. Hells, her own son was named Eddard. They could of course kill her and no one would ever know. Excuses would always be useful probably.

But she would have Ned's protection. And who would execute the only legitimate daughter of Prince Oberyn Martell?

Her name. Her name would save her. Rather pathetic for her to rely on a few combination of letters, but it would do. Perhaps she could find her son and go back to Dorne? She would need to write to her father before she went back to the Last Hearth. Ensure that he understood the situation and that she was so sorry for the fact that she had more than likely disappointed him. Gods he must hate her. She did everything he told her to not do. She had become domestic to an extent, wedded a man, had a child. She would need to repair that relationship immediately.

She could go write to him now. She would go write to him.

Amirina pulled away from the wall and began walking to her chambers, her lips set in a thin line and a new fire in her eyes.

* * *

 _My dearest father,_

 _I have failed you. I have become uncouth like a starved sliver of what used to be a viper. And for that, I am forever sorry and sorrowful. All of these events have failed you, have failed me. I have even failed mine own son. How pitiful is that?_

 _I am writing to inform you that I will do my best to annul my marriage to Jon Umber. It is a pathetic and weak match. I have pitied mine self for far too long and I refuse to keel over like a sick rat. I will fix this, father. That I can promise you. Once I do, I shall return to Sunspear, with my son. He shall grow as a viper, nothing more or less. I will bring honor back to mine own name, father, I swear it. I hope you may find it in your heart to welcome me back into your open arms and life. I am still your little desert rose, father. Though, I have realized a great deal of mine self here. I understand why I must bear my fangs, never a smile. I shall strike fast and true. Soon, father. Soon._

 _Your dearest daughter,_

 _Amirina_

The woman looked down at the letter in thought, her hand grasping the quill tightly. A fire was beginning to stoke itself once more in her gut. It had been dimmed for quite some time, the average symptom of a woman allowing the domestication of herself. The thought of it made her blood curdle and her jaw to clench to a bone white. She had held too much pity for herself. She allowed her age and inexperience to blind her and lead her astray. But she was better now. She would be better now.

In a way, she could never fully blame herself. She was only eighteen. Barely a full woman. Her body was still changing and yet she had already treated it like it was permanent. She was still a child in the eyes of some. An adult in the eyes of others. She needed to stop partaking in adult actions and reacting like a child. It was unbecoming of her.

Amirina placed the quill down and blew lightly on the ink so as to dry it quickly. The last few drops of the black fluid dried and she rolled the parchment up. Her left hand held it down as she reached for the wax seal with her right. It was the Stark sigil on the seal but that wouldn't matter. Her father would receive it anyways.

She tied a ribbon around it and then tied it to the leg of the raven that sat dutifully on her windowsill. She had retrieved the bird earlier, knowing she did not want to run into anyone with a curious letter in her hands. She shooed the bird away and watched as it flew south, towards an open expanse of land over Wintertown.

The young viper would set things right.

* * *

Ned rubbed a hand down his tired face, his eyes closing for a few moments. He couldn't quite believe what he was reading, but at the same time, he could. No viper went down without a fight.

"You're sure of this?" he questioned, looking up to the woman in front of his desk. His niece. A woman who he thought had lost her light. But it appeared he was incredibly incorrect.

"Surer than the sun rising in the east and setting in the west," she replied stonily. Her lips had been set in a thin line and her jaw was clenched. Ned wasn't quite sure when something had been set off in his niece, but he was sure that she seemed to be who she should have become. A strong viper with the cold winters rushing through her veins.

Yet, Eddard Stark still worried. He wondered if this was all a ruse to make her believe in herself. Or if it was truly her taking the turn she needed. He couldn't decide if either were good or bad. It just didn't seem like her to be so low to begin with, and then suddenly fix herself? He doubted it was true, but he hoped that it was. Maybe then she could grow the spine she seemed to lose with domestication. He would always love her, and always blame himself for approving of such a marriage. She would have been far better to never wed, much like he thought Lyanna would never do. But he realized that was false. So perhaps, Amirina could be that case.

But, Ned sighed and nodded his head. The letter to the Greatjon would do its job. He just needed the seal of Robert to strengthen their claim. That of which he could retrieve that eve.

"I'll ask Robert for his official seal and I'll send it off in the morn before we depart. But do not act until you receive a raven back, do you understand? I know what they did and they do not fear your name like they should. I fear for what they will do even with a letter of such importance." Ned rolled the piece of parchment up and tied a string around it to ensure it would not be open to greedy eyes. He just hoped for the seal as soon as possible, then he would not need to send it tomorrow. He could send it that same night. Less chance of people seeing it.

Amirina gave a thin smile, not a single tooth peeking out from behind. She nodded her head slowly, much like a way as if she already knew he was going to say that. And much like a way as if she had something planned. It made Ned narrow his eyes at her slightly. What in the hells was she plotting?

"Of course, uncle. I truly appreciate it. I've sent a letter to my father of course. He knows of the arrangement. If they do not cooperate, I'm sure the king, and my father and uncle in Dorne will gladly ensure they will." Her response was clear cut. There was no way for anyone to deny her. In a way, it worried Eddard Stark. _Gods_ , he wondered, _what was she going to get herself into?_

She then nodded, as in a goodbye, but paused for a moment, as if she was beginning to reconsider something.

"Uncle?"

Ned stared at her, realizing the faraway look in her eyes at the moment. What could possibly be bothering her that wasn't already?

"Did my mother ever speak with you before I was born?"

It took him by surprise, like a gust of wind on a still day. But he knew this subject would be precarious. He didn't know how much Oberyn had told her of Katerina. Some things weren't for Ned to discuss. His sister wasn't his for many years. Especially with the birth of her children. She was Oberyn's.

"Rarely, I'm afraid," he said honestly, bunching his fists up towards his mouth, a sadness washing over him that has been gone for many years.

Ned watched as she purses her lips, her eyes still distant.

"Do you think it possible for her to stray from my father?"

It was Ned's turn to purse his lips now. Why would she ever ask such a question? He'd never know. He failed to ask. But he knew one thing: he wouldn't put it past his oldest sister. He loved her with all of his heart, but he had heard the whispers of Oberyn's supposed unfaithful behaviors before Amirina was born. He never knew if it was true, but he wouldn't doubt the viper's abilities to do so. And Katerina? If she had been unhappy, she would have done everything in her power to be happy. Almost like Amirina was doing now.

"I will never know for sure, but if your mother was in any way unhappy, she ensured she would be happy again some way or another. But fret not, my dear, you have too much Martell in your looks and bite to not be a viper."

Amirina then looked at him, that faraway stare finally gone. Her hazel eyes had darkened in the part months, the weather growing cooler. Her skin had grown considerably fairer, but she still was darker than any northerner. She was Martell and Stark, he was sure of that.

"Thank you, uncle, I will leave you be now. I know you have a long journey ahead." And with that, Ned watched as his niece turned and exited the quiet and dim room where a fireplace to his right was crackling and the flames' light danced on the spruce desk. A letter, or more so a demand, laid rolled up, awaiting a royal seal.

* * *

Amirina took a deep breath in through her nose. Her fist hovered over the spruce door to her cousin's chambers. She had come to apologize. That much was for certain. She had been horrible to him the last time they spoke, which had been a fortnight? Maybe less? She wasn't quiet sure. The time she had spent with Bran had taken a mental toll on her. All that time blaming herself for something she couldn't control had stressed her beyond belief. She wished she could have the time back.

Because now, the cousin she needed to speak with was to head for the Wall and take the black on the morrow.

She sucked in a breath with that thought and knocked lightly on the door. The breath stayed trapped behind her lips for a brief moment, her eyes staring warily at the lines of the dark wood. It would not release until the door had been opened.

Amirina waited calmly as the sound of a body left a bed disrupted the quiet of the evening. It had been quite the day for her. She had written many letters, spoken to her uncle for a bit, went to the godswood and prayed for some time, spent some more time with Catelyn and Bran, and before she knew it, the sun was setting. She had missed dinner, but was given quite a bit of food by the kitchens. They were all lovely people and Amirina gave them all a few gold dragons she had had for staying a bit later to make her food.

Footsteps treaded on the cold stones, Amirina herself being barefoot. It was late enough that she did not need to wear any dress of proper nature nor slippers. She wore a simple white tunic with some loose trousers, both of which she could easily fall asleep in if she wished. And the cousin she was going to see would not mind. He would probably hit her if she came in a full dress.

It was with that thought that the door slowly opened, a small creaking was audible. Amirina adjusted her hold on the food so that she no longer needed to use one hand, and could properly support the food with both hands like she should have been. She chewed the inside of her cheek nervously, hoping and praying that he would not slam the door back into her face.

But Jon Snow would never and could never do that.

The bastard Stark looked warily out to the hallway at her, as if unsure if he should let her in. One of his hands stayed firmly grasping the handle from his side of the door, as if ready to shut it at a moment's notice.

"I-I apologize for how late it is," Amirina started, suddenly looking down to her feet. Perhaps this was a mistake. "I wanted to come and offer my apologies. For a lot of things really. For the things I said. For the way I've treated you. I-I don't mean to harm you. I never do. So, um, I brought you some food, as I wasn't sure if you had missed dinner or not, and I had so I thought it couldn't be a horrible idea, so um, yes. Im not quite sure how to fix this."

She then looked up to Jon again, worried he would not deal with this tonight. He was supposed to leave tomorrow, why should he? A part in the back of her mind reminded her that he had done the same once and she welcomed him back with open arms. Perhaps he would think of that and do the same. But she had struck him and spewed harsh words at him, so perhaps he wouldn't. She couldn't blame him if he did. But, a part of her was crying out for him to just let her in, let her explain everything and let her have at least one last night with him before he was gone forever.

He reached out with his free hand and Amirina gave him a bowl of stew and bread. It wasn't the best food in the world, but it would do for the time being.

"Come in, Rina," he said quietly, a tired look on his young features. She wanted to reach out and hold him, but she knew that wouldn't be okay.

Amirina nodded her head in appreciation and entered the smaller room. It wasn't large, not like her's. But it was still a lot. It had not truly changed much either. The bed appeared the same, the trunk at the foot of it looked a bit more worn, the fireplace still sat opposite of it. A desk was in the corner and a single chair sat by the hearth. It was similar to her room in all aspects, but her room was definitely larger.

She looked over at the crackling fire and decided to walk over to it and sit upon the bear rug that adorned the stones below them. It was far warmer than the bare stones anyways. Plus, it was the only good place for her to eat. But eating would wait for the moment.

Amirina set the small wooden bowl and bread to the side for a moment, waiting to look up at Jon until he had closed the door and walked over to her. She didn't look up at him, no. It would have been expectant. And she was far from that with her current position.

Jon sat down opposite of her and crossed his legs, much like the position she had taken up. He, however, did not set the bowl and bread down on the rug. He simply began eating, using the bread to soak up the broth and a spoon to fish out the meat and vegetables. The way he ate made her realize that she had been correct to assume that he had not had dinner. He was probably far too absorbed by his own worries and thoughts to have remembered to eat. Amirina knew he oft did that more than not.

"Thank you," he said quietly between bites, his words sincere despite their lack of volume.

Amirina waved it off, a small smile on her lips. "It's no worries, I promise. I know you, Snow, and you oft forget to eat dinner. I thought you'd like it whether you had or not."

He met her eyes for a second and nodded his head. Perhaps now was a good time for her to speak.

"Do you mind if I say my piece?" she offered slowly, hoping to not upset him. His small nod was all the answer she received, and that was a victory to her.

She took a deep breath and looked over to the warm light that danced on dying logs and embers. It was easier that way.

"I haven't felt like myself for some time. In fact, it wasn't until today that I realized how fucked I really was in the mind. I've been a complete ass and I really don't deserve any form of forgiveness, yet here I am still asking for some of it.

"I withdrew from everyone, you know? I told Bran it'd be okay for him to go climbing. I told him to hurry though, wanting him to be back for supper so Catelyn wouldn't notice. The boy loves to climb, how can I deny him that? And he's always been so surefooted, always! I blamed myself for his fall. If I hadn't let him go, he wouldn't be lying in his damned bed, still asleep. He'd be saying goodbye to everyone, playing with Rickon, being a child. And I blamed myself for that."

Amirina looked down to her hands then, realizing they were clutching the ends of her white and thready tunic. She needed to get a grip on herself, this was no pity gripe.

Amirina drew in another deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment and looking back up at Jon. His eyes was trained upwards now, towards her, no longer staring down at the bowl of stew and bread. The stormy eyes locked on her's and she couldn't help but look away once more, regret and shame filling her to the brim, like a chalice of mead about to spill over.

"I-I haven't felt safe in so long, Jon. How am I supposed to? Everyone is leaving. Sure, Robb and Catelyn are here to remain, but who truly holds power over Winterfell and the Northern lords? And who has been my best friend throughout the years? I-I have felt like such a complete failure recently. I wedded and bedded like a damn broodmare, doing exactly what my father had me promise not to do before he left. Of course, it was not exactly my choice, however, I was complacent and allowed it to happen.

"I had a child, a son, who I have not seen since he was ripped from me before I could even feed him myself. How fucking pathetic is that?" She turned to Jon suddenly, a burning sensation in her eyes. "Now I've run away to Winterfell. I've been safe. What about my son though? How is he faring? I can't even remember how old he is. I've been so selfish. I helped wildlings enact a rescue. Wildlings. Gods, I must have been mad. Yet, I did it for the reasons of many and one was to enrage my husband. And what did I accomplish? That very thing. I'm sure he knows it was me. The threatening of my head made me remember that.

"And then, I've felt so sorry for myself, that I completely treated you poorly. I still am afraid Jon. I'm afraid of everyone leaving. I don't want to go back. I truly don't. I sent a letter to my father, my uncle, the grandmaester in Old Town. I even have one prepared for my husband and his father so as to release my son to me and when our marriage is annulled, I may return to Dorne and raise my son there. Yet, I'm terrified. I have all of this power at the moment, yet I know this is all a game. A game of who has the most power at the moment. I certainly have some but that is nothing compared to others."

The Martell girl took a moment to catch her breath. The words had been falling out like a waterfall crashing into a lake. She had bottled it up internally for so long that she needed this moment. And she thanked the old and new that Jon seemed to realize that.

She locked eyes with the Snow boy and gave a sad smile. "What am I supposed to do, Jon Snow? How am I supposed to be complacent once again? I can't lose you too. I can't sit by and watch you leave to never have a life of nothing but darkness and men. I'll never see you again, and I'm not sure I'm okay with that. We've grown up together. We've snuck out and had our fun. We've sparred. We've laughed and joked. You know more about me than anyone here. How am I supposed to be okay with losing my family and friends in one day?"

It was at that moment that Jon finally reacted. A breath left him that he must not have realized he was holding. His shoulders slumped and that tired look on his features was only highlighted by the flames. The sadness and indecision in his cloudy grey eyes danced with red and orange from the fire. A shadow was beginning to reclaim his jaw, and lines had begun to form around his visage from stress. Gods, he was younger than she and he was far more stressed than even Ned it seemed.

"I know this won't excuse the words I traded with you and how I've treated you lately, but perhaps it'll make you understand the apologies I have given you. I don't ask you to forget, but to merely forgive. Seeing as how we'll never see one another again, I believe a final forgiveness will leave a less sour taste in the mouth," she offered, a small and bittersweet smile on her lips.

Jon surprised her by offering his hand. Amirina stares at it as if it were some foreign attachment but Jon rolled his eyes. "Come now, Rina, I'm not going to kill ya."

"Are you positive?"

"Of course," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It'd be far too obvious that it was myself and I'd not get very far should I run."

Amirina couldn't help the small chuckle the escaped her as she took his hand. He pulled her to his side and adjusted so that they were facing the fire. Amirina pulled her knees up to her chest and Jon slung an arm around her shoulders. They watched the flames for a moment, enjoying the silence and company of one another. It reminded them both of moments of their childhood.

"Amirina," Jon said softly, her name rolling off of his tongue like a child's song, "you're by far the strongest woman I know. Ya don't need anyone to help ya. You've helped me more than you'll ever be able to understand, and I hope ya know that, Rina. Taking the black is something I need to do. I have to. I can't live with myself being married off and having children that will be bastards like myself. I can't. This is the only way, Rina."

She stiffened at that last part. It wasn't the only damn way. He knew that but he was being stubborn, something he most definitely inherited from Ned. He was too damn honorable to realize that. But the squeezing of his hand on her shoulder shook her enough to not make a comment. Rina merely sat there and continued to listen, much like he had done for her.

"I don't blame ya, Rina. I'm not mad at ya. I just want ya to understand. You're my best friend. You've been the only family I've needed in almost seventeen years. Robb may be my brother and friend, but you've been the best of both. You taught me how to fight, though very poorly may I add-"

"Jon!" she shouted, incredulous at his words. He only chuckled a bit and hushed her.

"You gave me some of the only nameday gifts I ever received. You would be the family and friend I needed on days when Catelyn was at her worst. You may be just as much a Stark as I, but ya never failed to make me believe I wasn't some bastard boy of a high lord. Ya made me think I had a chance at being Warden of the North like my father and his before him. And that is the greatest memory I will cherish. We may not see one another again, but the mind will always help us be together."

Amirina looked up at Jon, a bit in awe and struck by his words. He had never really been completely open with her. Even then, he was more open with her than anyone else. This, this was something else entirely, and she reveled in it. He gave her a small smile and her a tighter squeeze. There was still sadness that danced in his dark eyes, but Amirina knew that was to come. They both were losing each other, in different ways. Jon was losing all of his family except Uncle Benjen. Amirina was losing her uncle and Jon and the girls. She would still have family with her. For that, she would at least be grateful.

It was then that Amirina heard the sound of paws hitting the stones. She looked over her shoulder and realized that Ghost had taken up residence on Jon's bed and decided that was far too boring now. So he slipped off of the bed and padded over to the duo, stretching out and laying back down onto the furs of the bear rug. Amirina admired his white coat and how large he had gotten in the time they had found them. Ghost may have been the runt, but he was growing fast be the gods damned. She stretched out slightly and began to scratch behind one of his snow white ears. His red eyes opened slightly and stared at her for a moment, but slipped back down in contentment.

"Does that mean you'll be taking Ghost?" Amirina questioned, admiring the way his soft coat felt underneath her fingers. A part of her wished he would say no. Ghost was beautiful and Amirina wouldn't mind a companion in place of Jon.

"Afraid so," he said, a bit of humor at the now disappointed look on Rina's lit up features. "Why?"

Amirina shifted so she was out of Jon's grasp and now had Ghost's head in her lap. Both hands worked to scratch behind both ears. The direwolf was beyond content at this point. "He's far better company than you, Jon Snow. Damned if he doesn't know more as well."

A series of chortles escaped the duo, who sat peacefully before the dying, yet still thriving, fire. It was then that Amirina finally ate the food she had brought for herself, but at a much slower rate. The two spoke for a bit longer before a yawn ripped through Amirina. They both knew how early everyone needed to rise to ensure they could be off in reasonable time and Jon offered her his bed.

She took it without much complaint, a sudden wave of drowsiness washing over the Martell girl. Perhaps it was the mental exhausted or emotional exhaustion she had endured and would continue to go through, that wore her out. Perhaps it was the liberating conversation they had had. Any way could have been the culprit, but as soon as her head hit the pillow and the furs pulled over her, her eyes hit and she became oblivious to the world.

Jon would take the chair that sat by the fire. He nodded at Ghost to sleep by Amirina, the direwolf knowing what to do automatically. He sometimes swore Ghost could understand his thoughts. But that didn't matter at the moment.

A piece of Jon was elated by Amirina's appearance. A large part was distraught. How could he leave? Why would he even think about it? He knew why, he just didn't want to acknowledge it. She would have made it so much easier by staying away. By continuing to ignore him. It would have been far easier for him at least.

As Jon watched Amirina drift off he listed mentally all of the things he would miss of her. He'd miss: her smile, her laughter, her incessant need to be better than all of the boys, her sparring, her care and worry for him, her ability to make him forget he was a bastard boy of Ned Stark, and so many other damned things. Amirina Martell had been the one thing in his life he'd always count on. His father was good to him. His siblings too. But Amirina Martell didn't care what Catelyn wanted; she cared about what Jon needed.

And that was all he had needed in life.

He sighed and stood from the chair. Ghost gave him an odd look, the direwolf's head cocked slightly and an ear slightly bent. Jon smiled at his companion and motioned for him to sleep. The wolf laid his head over Amirina's covered feet, both eyes fading shut. Jon focused on not waking Amirina as he looked over her. She was a good person who was forced to grow up too fast. Jon could understand that. She didn't mean harm, and it was why he forgave her so easily. She always had his best interests at heart. And even now, she still did, despite his want to leave everything behind.

Jon bent over the edge of the bed and slowly lowered his head to Amirina's. He closed his eyes as he placed a small and brief kiss upon her forehead, much like how she used to do to him when they were kids. He knew she wouldn't feel it, much less know he had done it. Jon had never been the strongest at opening up or showing emotion, but Amirina has been his outlet, like a dummy in a practice field. She knew a lot about Jon, not everything, but a lot. And the small kiss upon her forehead was a gesture of thanks for all she had done for him over the years.

He straightened back up slightly and smiled at the peace that had finally seemed to reach her sleep. He decided he'd leave her to rest with their childhood promise.

"Remember, Rina, there's no Snow without Martell."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** holy crap! One of my longest chapters to date! I hope it made up for the long wait. I'm happy with it and hope y'all are too. Thank y'all for the continued support and everything y'all do for me! You all keep me motivated to write! The next chapter is gonna be tough to finish._

 _Bonus: if anyone can guess where I drew inspiration for that last quote from, I might give a special opportunity out!_

 _-P_

 _ **bhu-** I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I apologize for the wait!_

 _ **redhouseclan-** Hello! Thank you so much for the review! I hope this chapter made up for your frustration ;) don't worry, a badass Amirina is making a comeback and I can't wait to show y'all her! Thank you!_


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